They often told me
that one day
a prince charming
was going to come along
and sweep me off my feet.

So I stayed
bounded behind these gates,
waiting for the moment
I hear the slaying of dragons
and the galloping of his gallant horse.
I waited
and waited
for someone to
come show me love,
to prove to me
that it existed
when they should have taught me
to give myself love,
first.

Because princesses
need princes to wake up them,
to break the chains,
to kiss them,
and whisk them away
into a magical castle
where everything seems possible.

But I am not a fucking princess.

I am a woman
and I will build this damn castle
myself.
And all this talk about being saved
from the evil queen
and poisoned needles-
I can save myself.
And dreaming of a true love?
Well hey,
I am my own first love
and I won’t let anyone
sweep me off my feet
until I am free enough to fly on my own.

If life is ever a fairy tale,
then I am my own fucking hero.
A Story A Day #259 by Ming D. Liu
(via mingdliu)

(via mingdliu)


You are not hard to love.
Say it to yourself, out loud.
You are not hard to love.

You are poetry in motion,
you are every metaphor that I could only grasp the edge of,
the thing that is so beautiful that it can’t be written.

You are fluid,
capable of such softness
but with the strength and persistence to wear away mountains.

You are magic,
charming in your clumsiness,
your willingness to fall in life and love takes great courage.

You are intoxicating,
one taste of your skin makes the world softer, warmer,
find someone who wants to get drunk off of you.

You are passion embodied,
let them see this,
do not hide how you feel for people who let the world make them hard.

You are more than enough,
deserving of someone who wants to look at you through a telescope
so that they can see every galaxy within your eyes.

You are not hard to love.
Do not let anyone convince you of this.
You are not hard to love.


I remember the relief I felt when I tried killing myself about a year ago. Complete relief until the paramedics got there and saved me. I thought I hated myself for trying to die. Now I think I hated them for making me live.
Goodnight and goodbye Facebook.


Last week,
when I got a tattoo,
all I could think
was that there was now a part of me
that you haven’t touched.

This week,
when I cut four inches of hair off,
all I saw
were the fingerprints of yours
that were now lost.

Last night,
when you texted me at 3:04am
all I felt
was torn
because you only miss me when I’m already gone.







i-want-to-fly-far-away:

I told you.

i-want-to-fly-far-away:

I told you.