thalia d.

“…the sad part is, that I will probably end up loving you without you for much longer than I loved you when I knew you.
Some people might find that strange.
But the truth of it is that the amount of love you feel for someone and the impact they have on you as a person, is in no way relative to the amount of time you have known them.”
― Ranata Suzuki

“I hope you still taste like my name
when the next man kisses you
that he hears it echo down his throat
and crawl across his skin

I hope he knows that you were mine
that you had forevers on your lips
that were only meant for me

I hope he feels small, mismatched
when he takes hold of your hand
that his fingers never fill the void
my own have left behind

and when he lays by your side
and whispers that he loves you
I hope my voice echoes back louder
through all the canyons
I spent nights
and mornings
carving in your sheets.”
― Tyler Kent White

“one day
you are going to fall in love
and instead of breaking
like before

you'll find you fit perfectly
into all the fractured parts
and rusted
worn-out spots

you'll realize you are more beautiful
than you ever could have dreamed
more stunning
than you ever imagined

you see
little love
the universe always knew
just how flawless you would become
when you finally took the time
to fall in love with yourself”
― Tyler Kent White, Songs With Our Eyes Closed

“Because I don’t care what anyone says or how often or winningly they say it: no one will ever, ever be able to persuade me that life is some awesome, rewarding treat. Because, here’s the truth: life is a catastrophe. The basic fact of existence – of walking around trying to feed ourselves and find friends and whatever else we do – is a catastrophe. Forget all this ridiculous ‘Our Town’ nonsense everyone talks: the miracle of a newborn babe, the joy of one simple blossom, Life You Are Too Wonderful To Grasp, &c. For me – and I’ll keep repeating it doggedly till I die, till I fall over on my ungrateful nihilistic face and am too weak to say it: better never born, than born into this cesspool. Sinkhole of hospital beds, coffins, and broken hearts. No release, no appeal, no “do-overs” to employ a favored phrase of Xandra’s, no way forward but age and loss, and no way out but death.”
― Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch