I'm Tired Of Writing My Own Heaps Of Thoughts, Give Me Yours, Let The Water Flow From Your Mind, Let

Meet me where the light greets dark

Where the lovers go when they are tired

August. My birth month. August, the month of heavy pours. August, the month of misty mountains. August, the month of most gorgeous sunsets.

August.

"We never realize how frozen we are until someone starts to melt our ice"

— Bridgett Devoue

One day you will deny to destroy yourself by the immense grief you hold in your heart and the breeze will feel a little sweeter, and the birds will chirp your favourite songs, and you'll realise you've been healing all this while.

-Ann

“I loved you before I was born. It doesn’t make sense, I know. I saw your eyes before I had eyes to see. And I’ve lived longing for your every look ever since. That longing entered time as this body. And the longing grew as this body waxed. And the longing grows as this body wanes. That longing will outlive this body. I loved you before I was born. It makes no sense, I know. Long before eternity, I caught a glimpse of your neck and shoulders, your ankles and toes. And I’ve been lonely for you from that instant. That loneliness appeared on earth as this body. And my share of time has been nothing but your name outrunning my ever saying it clearly. Your face fleeing my ever kissing it firmly once on the mouth. In longing, I am most myself, rapt, my lamp mortal, my light hidden and singing. I give you my blank heart. Please write on it what you wish.”

— Li-Young Lee, from The Undressing: Poems; “I loved you before I was born”

Jane Austen was right when she said “I am half agony, half hope.”

better things are coming