We are all stories in the end.
(Source: hotsinceninetyfour, via maliciar)
traz um poema, garçom
e nos sirva com poesia
porque a vida é dura
e o amor mais ainda
van gogh não pintou as cicatrizes que carrego na alma,
mas sempre que fecho os olhos, vejo girassóis em mim.cr.
(via compostos)
The day she was born
The doctor said
“it’s a boy.”
and proceeded to wrap her in blue.
When she was one,
she was called big, fierce, and strong;
She just went along.
And she always wore blue.
When she was two,
She was given toy construction vehicles,
plastic dinosaurs,
and a gun - that shot bubbles.
When she was three,
she told her mom that she wasn’t happy,
she wasn’t who she wanted to be,
She was a boy.
Her mom assumed it was a phase
and figured things would change.
She told her
to give it some time.
When she was four,
she wanted a doll.
Her dad bought her a ball,
and called it a close call.
When she was five,
she tried to paint her nails
like the other females.
But her mom found her and took it away.
She cried and cried,
but her dad told her to grow up,
Boys don’t cry.
She should just be a tough guy.
When she was six,
She tried growing out her hair
but then her parents gave her a glare
and made her cut it all.
When she was seven,
she went to school.
Most of her friends were girls
and
they were able to be who they wanted to be.
When she was eight,
her dad signed her up
for little league baseball
He didn’t care for her opinion at all.
When she was nine,
she gave up.
She’d had enough.
This was her life,
and it wasn’t going to change.
When she was ten,
she was made fun of
for taking her shirt off the “feminine way”
at a pool party
When she was eleven
she read that
people who felt the way she did
wouldn’t be allowed into heaven.
When she was twelve,
she got first place in a science fair
and for the first time in her life,
her father was proud.
When she was thirteen,
she realized she was attracted
to other girls.
When she was fourteen,
she was called gay,
and several other names.
When she was fifteen,
she got sick of her life being a lie.
She couldn’t stop thinking how
all she wanted to do was die.
When she was sixteen,
she met a girl,
who was nice and all,
but very confusing too.
They began to date,
to her this felt like fate.
But deep down she knew,
she mustn’t stay around.
When she was seventeen,
she finally told her girlfriend
the truth.
Her girlfriend told her
she knew.
When she was eighteen,
she told her parents something unforeseen
she was a girl,
she always had been,
and always will.
M.C.R. // @a-random-emu (A project I made for my Sociology Class)
as palavras que trago aqui um dia me cortaram, mas hoje,
estacam o sangue que me livraram do veneno desse seu desamor.
você tentou me podar, cortou meus girassóis mas neruda me ensinou
que nada impede a primavera de aparecer. e meu bem, a poesia me floresceu.me deito na lua,
a chuva cicatriza todos os espinhos
que você fincou em minha alma.
em algumas noites,
o choro é cura.cr.
(via poetologia)
“Foi quando eu disse que não queria mais dormir se não fosse contigo. E que iria segurar na sua mão até o dia que seu cão voltasse. E se algum dia, olhando pela janela, os cotovelos apoiados, os dedos segurando um cigarro, eu me questionasse novamente o que seria essa tal felicidade, eu queria muito que a cidade gritasse seu nome.”— Gabito Nunes.
(via caotizado)
“Seu corpo nu só deve pertencer a quem se apaixonar por sua alma nua.”— Charlie Chaplin.
(via poetologia)
Tinha um jeito singular de fechar os olhos quando experimentava emoção bonita, coisa de segundos e coisa imensa. Era como se os olhos quisessem segurar a lindeza do instante um bocadinho, o suficiente para levá-lo até o lugar onde o seu sabor nunca mais poderia ser perdido. Eu via, olhos do coração abertos, e nunca mais perdi de vista o sabor desse detalhe. Porque quem ama vê miudezas com olhar suficiente pra nunca mais se perderem.Ana Jácomo.
(via esgotada)
“Eu nunca gostei do final de nada, odiava estar vendo um filme e saber que daqui alguns minutos ele acabaria, não gostava quando o efeito do álcool estava passando e a tristeza voltando, nunca me conformei em pensar que minha vida e a das pessoas que amo teria um fim, mais cedo ou mais tarde. Eu acho que as coisas boas da vida deviam durar mais, não precisaria ser pra sempre, só um pouco mais. Num piscar de olhos tudo começa a virar lembrança, algumas ainda felizes, outras nem tanto. As vezes tenho a sensação de que vivo no passado e que minha vida inteira só servirá de lembranças no futuro.”— Guilherme.
(via consistia)
