Home is in my hair, my lips, my arms, my thighs, my feet and my hands. I am my own home. And when I wake up crying in the morning, thinking of how lonely I am, I pinch my skin, tug at my hair, remind myself that I am alive. Remind myself to step outside and greet the morning. Remind myself that itās all ā¦change. Itās all aboutā¦freedom.
DiriyeĀ Osman,Ā Fairytales for Lost ChildrenĀ (via wnq-anonymous)











