It’s a song, rhythmically dissonant. Hardly fills the room, faint like your grandmother’s whisper. Tortuously sad and kind. It’s words ramble and the continuity of the story it tells is like a troubadour gone mad. It’s whole, complete in the honesty of it. It’s only yours.
posted 1 hour ago with 0 notes
"They say in love you should not think about yourself and your own needs, but you must first fight to love yourself as a whole and honest person. From there giving yourself to another is merely a sweet song with a dissonant chord from time to time. This is truly imperative, otherwise you just find yourself weirdly projecting your own insecurities on your mate and loving them as much or as little as you do yourself."
posted 1 week ago with 1 note