ugly-needs
busybeetalks:

She was a thirst quencher.
She met him when he was desperate for a drop of free water. 

And he held his head back and he parted his chapped lips and she poured everything she had into him. 
He filled his stomach to the brim with the sweetest water he’d ever tasted.

"I was lost in the desert but your water, it had brought me back from noting," he said. "I don’t think I’ll ever tire of the way you taste." 

"Then drink," she replied and she poured every last drop into him.

He drank until his face was flushed and his stomach ached and she didn’t understand why, so she asked, “but darling, what’s the matter?”

"I think I’ve had enough of you," he said letting go of her fingers that he almost had to pry away.

"I thought you said you’d never tire of my rain?"

"But I’m not tired of your rain, I’m tired of your storm." 

She wondered why she always give so much of herself to satisfy the thirst of others. Others who had no interest in the tangled passions of her soul that sometimes ignited into flaming light and bursts of thunder.

She has been so busy all her life adoring the desert for all the ways her rain would heal it, that she forgot there were oceans that would gladly welcome any amount of rain. And when she stormed, it would simply reply, “I’ve missed you, I’m ready.”

busybeetalks:

She was a thirst quencher.
She met him when he was desperate for a drop of free water.

And he held his head back and he parted his chapped lips and she poured everything she had into him.
He filled his stomach to the brim with the sweetest water he’d ever tasted.

"I was lost in the desert but your water, it had brought me back from noting," he said. "I don’t think I’ll ever tire of the way you taste."

"Then drink," she replied and she poured every last drop into him.

He drank until his face was flushed and his stomach ached and she didn’t understand why, so she asked, “but darling, what’s the matter?”

"I think I’ve had enough of you," he said letting go of her fingers that he almost had to pry away.

"I thought you said you’d never tire of my rain?"

"But I’m not tired of your rain, I’m tired of your storm."

She wondered why she always give so much of herself to satisfy the thirst of others. Others who had no interest in the tangled passions of her soul that sometimes ignited into flaming light and bursts of thunder.

She has been so busy all her life adoring the desert for all the ways her rain would heal it, that she forgot there were oceans that would gladly welcome any amount of rain. And when she stormed, it would simply reply, “I’ve missed you, I’m ready.”

this--too--shall--pass
sadwavy:

claudiaisnotinteresting:


In 1983 a man was tested to see if he could sense god if all his senses were taken away. Every sense nerve in his brain was disconnected. He could not feel, hear, see or smell. He began reporting he could hear the voices of the dead and gave precise details that he could have not known. He then said he could see them and began clawing at his eyes, it turned to screaming and biting chunks of his flesh off. His last words were “I have spoken with God, and he has abandoned us” and died.

this is terrifying

the last sentence gave me like a 1 minute chill.

sadwavy:

claudiaisnotinteresting:

In 1983 a man was tested to see if he could sense god if all his senses were taken away. Every sense nerve in his brain was disconnected. He could not feel, hear, see or smell. He began reporting he could hear the voices of the dead and gave precise details that he could have not known. He then said he could see them and began clawing at his eyes, it turned to screaming and biting chunks of his flesh off. His last words were “I have spoken with God, and he has abandoned us” and died.

this is terrifying

the last sentence gave me like a 1 minute chill.

queenofheartts

Then there is the boy you can never stop thinking about. Whenever you see his name, it trips you up. Even if it’s one that belongs to many others, even if he belongs to someone else.

You know he is a symbol of your weakness, your Kryptonite. How he rushes in like wildfire and burns through everything you worked so hard to build since he last left you in ashes.

Lang Leav (Signposts, Lullabies)