I write because the world is both heartbreakingly sad and heartbreakingly joyful, and the only way for me to bear the pain, the only way for me to bear the world's bright beauty is to catch and to set it down in front of you, gently, honestly, in words..  survivants

I’m sitting in English class
and suddenly I’m inexplicably sad. I don’t know how it happens
so fast, how I slip through the cracks and
within moments, everything around me
is shattering. The ground breaks and 
I feel my walls caving in. I feel
my heart crumbling and I wonder how I got here
again. 
Because I have been here before. Because this is how it
always ends. 
And begins. Because all of my roots trace back to sadness.
Because I’m still trying to forgive. 
I watch my breath crystalize in a room so hot it
hurts to breathe.

How do we prove our strength to ourselves when it’s constantly giving out beneath us?

A Quirky Habit

Whenever I read books for school, I always read the plot beforehand, for fear that I will not understand the text. It’s quirky because I would never do this for a book I was reading for fun.

"i don’t need you
to fight my battles,
i just need
for you to be there
when my hands
begin to tremble
and my voice breaks,
to help me
steady my sword
and teach me
how to roar.”
m.v., I am my own savior, you are a companion. (via findingwordsforthoughts)
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