Love Gives Life

So give a little

34 notes

You kept your love for me hidden like a teenage girl’s diary; you left it protected by pillowcases, masked by mattresses or even underneath your underwear. Yet if I walked past you in public you’d look up and look down again without shooting me the shy smile that made me fall in love with you in the first place. When we were alone you’d shower me with affection and adoration and say “this is for all the times I saw you today that I had to pretend I didn’t know you.” I know why you do it and I know you have to but at the same time it kills me to even think that your love for me is not as deep as the Mariana trench, or high as Everest, or as long as the Nile.
I hate the fact we have to hide our love just because the world isn’t ready for it.  (via theglycoprotein)

(via poetry-mania)

65 notes

How It Began (Again)

verrloren:

I thought I moved on.
It was like getting hit
by a bullet
walking away
from the battle
I had just won.

I thought I was stronger, but
a meaningless text
a little reminder,
a jump start

was all it took.

She didn’t mean to.
How could she know
that I was a barrel already
floating toward…

(via poetry-mania)

4,414 notes

instagram:

Creating “Nezo Art” (#寝相アート) with @erichedelic

To see more photos of “nezo art,” browse the #寝相アート hashtag and follow @erichedelic on Instagram.

"The way my baby daughter slept was so funny, and I had some time to spare while she was asleep," explains Fukuoka Instagrammer Eriko Ohga (@erichedelic). In Japan, a growing trend called “nezo art” (寝相アート) has been inspiring mothers like Eriko to take creative photos of their babies while they sleep. Literally meaning “sleep-posture art” in Japanese, this new style of documenting baby years allows moms to have some fun during their few hours of peace while the little one sleeps.

The “nezo art” that creative moms like Eriko share are especially elaborate, using costumes and household props like laundry to shape scenes that tell stories. “I try to form a rough idea of the scene I want to create and prepare the area where my daughter would lay down before she falls asleep,” reveals Eriko. She then places her daughter in the designated setup, and, once the baby is asleep, the rest of the parts are put together in stealthy movements. Eriko also shares her tips for shooting the finished image: “I climb up on a chair to capture the entire scene from above. I’m also extra careful not to wake the baby up with the sound of the iPhone camera.”

Lol! Too cool

32 notes

I’ve taken such a long path to this little place in the woods of my mind…

My childhood crept about
Kicking up sadness
Stomping on my heart
The moment I felt joy
It shoved fear into my face

And truly, I was sad
Not in obvious, tear soaked ways
But in subtle ways
I’ve held back joy, love, graciousness
Walled vulnerability just to be safe

I was sad…I was sad…I was sad…
And afraid of being happy
From those childlike places
That root inside your chest
And entwine your whole soul

But happiness is a choice.

I choose it.

Like a smooth fine dress
That floats over my flaws
Brushing me softest in the harshest winds
I choose it.

…and joy became the delicate melody
of a warm silence that flowed through my veins, whispering to me.

Itziar Verría (via itziarverria)

Perfectly put

(via poetry-mania)

Filed under poetry who i was who i am beautiful self-awareness

0 notes

Knock Knock

Fear consumed, mother I am waiting on my son.

Hours have passed and he hasn’t called.

Drenched in anxiety knowing the society we living in.

2 AM a black man walking the streets; no good can come of it.

The unknown lingering above me, then I hear…

Knock knock.

Young girl rocking myself to sleep. Expecting the unthinkable.

Having adjusted to pain I see no fault in it.

Big brown eyes unable to shed a tear. no more, broken are my dreams and aspirations.

Family over-rated this is what life is.

Beyond this I have no fear.

Just as relief sets in I hear…

Knock knock.

Trembling in my boots, the realization begins to settle on the pain.

Unable to welcome joy because of fear of.

Knock knock.

Filed under LoveGivesLife microgrowinglove fears nightmares throwback