Sheās a mystery, I donāt know much about her, but I can tell you a lot. Sheās someone with a huge heart. Sheāll bend over backwards and fold herself in half just to help someone. Her loyalty to the ones that mean the most to her is unheard of nowadays. She smiles like sheās never been hurt and if you didnāt know her, youād believe that she hadnāt. But she has been hurt, quite a lot and no one seems to notice. I guess sheās just really good at hiding it, but if you took the time and looked deeply in her eyes, youād see. Youād see just how broken she is. Sheās fragile, it doesnāt take much to hurt her as she takes everything to heart. She hides behind this tough girl facade. Iām not surprised if you donāt know much about her. Sheās very cautions and letting someone close to her is a rare thing to happen. There are demons living inside her that she has to constantly fight with everyday. Sheās a lot worse to herself than any of the words said to her. Her past is not one of her favourite things to talk about. She doesnāt expect anyone to notice her or to listen to the things she talks about. However, Iām telling you, sheās so worth it, sheās nothing youād ever expect and youāll feel so alive with her in your life, if you just take the time to let her open up.
p.s.w // excerpt from a book iāll never write #267 (via poems-she-wrote)
My love, I want you to tell me about every person youāve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didnāt think youād live through. Tell me what the word āhomeā means to you. I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rains or coins in the bellies of snow? Do you think anger is a sincere emotion or just a timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away itās pain? Do you prefer bright colours or dull ones? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name and if you often lie awake at night and imagine your motherās joy when she spoke it for the first time. I want you to tell me all the ways youāve been unkind. Tell me all the ways youāve loved something. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living or what you wish to be. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving and if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you sometimes bleed through the wounds of others. I want to know you, all of you.
p.s.w // excerpt from a book Iāll never write #268 (via poems-she-wrote)
Smash that mf reblog button if you stoically ignore all labelled washing instructions and everything your mama ever told you about laundry and just send those bastards hurgling around in an overfilled tub to meet either death or glory
He.. he has this light that is so pure, it makes me believe that he could be the one to guide me out of this hole Iām inā¦.but Iām so scared that the darkness will taint his lightā¦.so I let him go.
every episode of call the midwife ā 1x02
ā³ I used to think that night was a time for women. All day, the docks were raucous with the lives of men. Lightermen and stevedores, dockers and pilots, the sailors and the drivers of the trains. In the smallest hours, only the riverās voice was heard. Only women were awake.