Sad Panda



(Spoken Word Poem by Akif Kichloo)

Click here to listen as you read along with beautiful christmas music and some beat-boxing too. x

Love suffers long and is kind. It is not proud. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things. Love never fails. And…


“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.”

—   Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets (via kushandwizdom)

There is this odd trend
of taken women
saying they are too much,
and how the men they love
are amazing for dealing with them.

Love should not be a responsibility.
You should not have to deal with me.
Just because a woman is wild
and free
does not mean she is difficult.
He is not a martyr for loving me
through the good
and not so good.

Some mornings I will wake up swinging,
you do not get a gold star
for still loving me.

Some mornings I will wake up like a lamb,
you do not get a gold star
for loving me.

I am not a hurricane of a girl,
you always have the chance to leave.

—   Michelle K., Hurricanes. (via michellekpoems)

(via guximtaria)



Courageous women speak out against corrective rape

Grace Brown has photographed hundreds of survivors and received submissions from thousands more since starting Project Unbreakable in October 2011. Her images document the threatening, demeaning and downright misguided comments that sexual abusers use to torment and subdue their victims.

Some pictures capture a particularly haunting aspect of sexual victimization: so-called “corrective rape,” a hate crime used against LGBT people as punishment or in the belief that forcing them to have heterosexual sex will “cure” them of their homosexuality.

Read moreFollow @policymic

Corrective rape happens in every country we need to stop acting as if it’s restricted to countries that fit into the narrative of ‘backwards’ countries.

(Source: micdotcom, via touchthatbooty)


Transparent cluster of Purple Pansies. (x).


Transparent cluster of Purple Pansies. (x).


I’m going to assume one of my followers needed a corgi today, and leave this here.

(Source: thatnutcray, via hobbitofthemotherfuckinshire)


tell me about your fears and what keeps you up at night and what you look for in the universe and whether you believe in ghosts or not and tell me how the last girl you kissed tasted and how you had one too many drinks that night and tell me about how your dad left your mom when you were only seven and how at that moment you swore you’d never love anyone but then grab me by my waist and whisper in my ear that you love me

“I want every piece of me to crash into every piece of you. I swear to god that’s how they make stars.”

List of Words to Know #24


Words to know that don’t exist in the English language (part VI)

Fernweh (German) - feeling homesick for a place you’ve never been to

Komorebi (Japanese) - the scattered, dappled light effect that happens when sunlight shines through trees

Pochemuchka (Russian) - a person who asks too many…


(via budddha)

The plan was to play hard to get, that’s right.
I wasn’t just gonna go giving myself away. I’m no easy catch.
Can you really see me in fishnets?
I always find myself slippin’ out the holes, swimmin’ back out to sea.
I’d never been anybody’s sushi roll.
But she, has lips like wasabi.
My eyes water every time we kiss.
Makes me wish we had a porch swing and a little home.
Makes me wish I could (write)/right wrongs, instead of poems.

The heart is a bullet that’s terrified of blood.
Love is a windshield wiper in a hurricane; nothing is ever clear.
You mistake her name for the moon, mistake porch lights for the stars and sometimes they are.
Her constellations lead me home, ten thousand shades of open.
And if there’s one thing in this world I’ve ever known for sure it’s that this girl is gonna crush me like a small bug.

Leave me so frickin’ broken there’ll be body bags beneath my eyes from nights I cried so hard
the stars died, but I’m like, go ahead.
I’m all yours.
I would kiss you in the middle of the ocean during a lightning storm ‘cause I’d rather be left for dead than left to wonder what thunder sounds like.

I’m not lookin’ for someone who can save me.
Life rafts might keep you afloat but they rarely get you anywhere and I’ve got places I wanna go.
So break me in two, peel back my rib cage and cover every page of my heart with love poems
you will burn someday.

The most fertile lands were built by the hands of volcanoes,
And I wanna know what grows beneath the drone of Hallmark and roses.
I want your goodbye to feel like explosives,
Your lips, a burning building without fire escapes.
Your hips the gates of hell if I know if heaven exists,
But this will do just fine.
I wanna feel you like lifelines on the palms of Jesus when the nails went through is that really, really creepy?

Just in case it is, let me also say I want you sleepy-eyed in the morning,
Waking at my side like a warm summer sky born from so much softness the horizon cries every time nightfall comes to take you.
Let me also say I wanna make you sandwiches,
And soup,
And peanut butter cookies.
Though, the truth is peanut butter is actually really bad for you ‘cause they grow peanuts in old cotton fields to clean the toxins out of the soil.
But hey, you like peanut butter and I like you.

Let me also say I’ve never seen anything more gorgeous than you were that night.
The moon, bending through the window blinds,
I told time by the light casting shadows across your face while you told me this story:

“My grandparents were married for 63 years.
On the day my grandfather died he laid in bed and said nothing
but “love, love, love love”
then he puckered his lips and kissed my grandmother for the last time.”

Love, love, love, love is like sunshine:
Sometimes you have to get burned to know you were there.
I wanna know that I’m here, every single part of me,
My heart, open as the river’s eyes the first time it sees the ocean.
My god, look at those waves!
Listen to that thundering tide.
Can you imagine anything more frightening?
Can you imagine anything

—   "Wasabi" - Andrea Gibson (via thinkmewhole)