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You weren’t in love with me. And I wish I knew it then.
No…I wish I didn’t deny it then.
You always listed my traits like some kind of pros and cons list,
Like you had to convince yourself the reasons to stay.
You loved me conditionally;
When you wanted it, when you felt like it.
You loved me as if it were synonymous to doing the laundry;
Wear me and use me and only awash me with love when you felt that I was too dirty from sitting on your bedroom floor.
I was a chore to you.


But you were my afternoon nap, the candy that I had the sweetest tooth for.
You were my comforter and the pillow I laid my weary head.
You were my home.
You have to understand that I didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t evict you.
You were my home,
But I had to leave.
I had to leave because I was not your home.
I was your apartment, and I was temporarily for rent.

a.h. “Evicted” (via ahbleedingheart)
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coolator:

i wanna be one of those people who does yoga at sunrise and drinks water out of mason jars filled with berries and twigs and shit

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Wake up early. Drink coffee. Work hard. Be ambitious. Keep your priorities straight, your mind right and your head up. Do well, live well and dress really well. Do what you love, love what you do. It is time to start living.

Thank you for the reminder. Needed to read this. (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)
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