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I don’t need someone that sees what’s good about me. I need someone that sees the bad and still wants me.
— (via olivia-ross)
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Reblogged from hey,

I’m reblogging this everyday.

I’m reblogging this everyday.

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Reblogged from hey,
Oh, me? I’m not 80% water. I’m 80% coffee, and a little bit of sass.
Zooey Deschanel
(via stphnprtll)
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Nostalgia is a
dirty liar
that insists things
were better
than they seemed.
— Michelle K. I Can’t Stop Questioning It. (via just—rust-and-stardust)
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"little black dress who u doin it for?" 

my damn self wtf

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I want to be
the first thing you touch in the morning,
and the last thing you taste at night.
— (via -fuckmylollipop)
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When God made you, he cussed for the first time.
He turned to an angel, gave him a high five and said, “God damn I’m good.”
You are that beautiful.
You see I want that “my friends think I’m crazy” kind of love.
That “reckless” kind of love, that “wake up early, make you breakfast” kind of love.
That “crack open my life and say look, you gotta see this kind of love forget the shallow stuff”.
I want the “deepest” kind of love, that “I wanna stay up late and tell you all my secrets” kind of love, that “every time I see you I fall into pieces” kind of love.
I want that “staying next to me” kind of love, that “you are my destiny” kind of love.
That “no matter what happens, you get the best of me” kind of love. That “you get my heart and my mind, this world gets the rest of me” kind of love.
That “invest in me” kind of love “because you already know that I invest in you” kind of love.
That “you come home upset that you don’t have to say nothing I already know what to do” kind of love.
I want love.
I want you to bite my lip until I can no longer speak.
And then suck out my ex-girlfriend’s name out of my mouth just to make sure she never comes up on our conversations.
I want you to come to me like an afternoon, come to me slowly as if you were a broken sunset with the lazy sky on your shoulders.
If you let me be your sunlight, I promise that I will penetrate your darkness until you speak in angel wings.
Pull me close to you, tell me that you love me and then scratch your future into my back so I can be everything that you look for.
I promise that I will die for you daily and then resurrect in your screams, I promise that I will love you.
I promise that I will love you as if it’s the only thing that I’ve ever done correctly.
I’m gonna be honest,
its not often that I find myself eager, to write about love,
in fact, when I try, my hands cramp.. Just to show me how painful love can be.
Sometimes, my pencils break, just to prove to me that every now and then love, takes a little more work than you planned.
I heard that love is blind, so, I write all my poems in brail.
And my poems are never actually finished because true love…is endless.
I’ve always believed… real love… is kind of like a super model…
Before she’s airbrushed. It’s pure and imperfect… Just the way that God intended.
I’m gonna be honest, I’m not much of a love poet.
But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love… my first poem… would be about you.
About how I love you the same way that I learned how to ride a bike: scared, but wreckless… With no training wheels, or elbow pads, so my scars can tell the story of how I fell for you…
I’m not much of a love poet, but if I was…
I’d write about how I see your face in every cloud,
and your reflection in every window,
you see, I’ve written a million poems hoping that somehow, maybe someway, you’ll jump out of the page and be closer to me cause if you were here, right now,
I would massage your back until your skin sing songs that your lips don’t even know the words to…
Until your heartbeat sounds like my last name and you smile like the Pacific Ocean,
I wanna drink… the sunlight in your skin…
I swear, if I was a love poet, I’d write about how you have the audacity to be beautiful,
even on days when everything around you is ugly,
I’d write about your eyelashes, and how they are like violin strings that play symphonies every time you blink.
If I was a love poet, I’d write about how I melt in front of you like a ice sculpture every time I hear the vibration in your voice.
And whenever I see your name on the caller ID,
my heart plays hop scotch inside of my chest,
it climbs onto my ribs like monkey bars,
and I feel like a child all over again,
and sometimes… sometimes I pray to God, that he turns you back into one of my ribs just so I wouldn’t have to spend another day without you…
I swear… I’m not much of a love poet… but if I was to wake up tomorrow morning…
and decide that I really wanted to write about love…
my first poem… would be about you…

-Rudy Francisco, If I was a Love Poet.

Amen to that! (^_^)

Reblogged from hey,



Kiss Me- Ed Sheeran

My new favorite song.

No but this is LITERALLY the most BEAUTIFUL THING IVE EVER LISTENED TO LIKE wow my heart hurts.

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The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead or smiling into your eyes or just staring into space.
Marilyn Monroe (via dissapolnted)
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Even if you come home late and I’m already asleep, just whisper in my ear one little thought you had today. Because I love the way you look at the world. And I’m so happy I get to be next to you and look at the world through your eyes.
Her (2013)  (via samuelcinema)
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