people who randomly decide to compliment you are so important
Another’s. She will be another’s. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
- Pablo Neruda, Tonight I Can Write (via modernmethadone)
- Isaiah Henkel (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
- Kurt Vonnegut, The Sirens of Titan (via feellng)
- Winona Ryder (via commedezfuckdown)