the spaces between

are what hold meaning

dragonjammydodger:

because we are, deep down inside

all of us

just a small scared lonely child

screaming to be loved

the cinnamon peeler's wife: Song On The Subway

commovente:

by Oscar Vuong

Rush-hour on the A rain. A blind man
staggers forth, his cane tapping lightly
own the aisle. He leans against the door,

raises a violin to chin, and says I’m sorry
to bother you, folks. But please. Just listen.
And it kills me, the word sorry. As if something like music

(Source: colporteur)

dear self: 


Love, 
Me

dear self:


Love,
Me