The Quote Journals

IG- grow_your_words

Mars Kneale

If I wrote you a love letter, it would start out like a country song. I’d say you remind me of the moon, full of the light I need. I’d tell you that you are cool like the night, and you soothe me. That I need you to rest easy. To dream. I’d say the days with you are like long rides thru winding roads. That I can’t get there fast enough when I’m coming for you. I’d say you are brighter than the neon in our favorite place. That your smile warms my heart, like the fireplace we cuddle next to. That you take care of me in a way that is music to my heart. I want to wake up next to you. Everyday. Every day. How I want to be what you want, because that’s what I want. That I miss you when you’re not here, and will kiss you when you are. I’d say you are mine and I am yours then, now, forever. As long as I live. How real love never goes away. Never dies, even if I do. If I wrote you a love letter, I’d tell you all this.

Me.

I kept it all bottled up. Then, what should have been tiny drops of rain, poured out like a river. They were inside too long. I kept them hidden, so no one would know. And I nearly drowned myself.

She wondered, “what would it be like?”
To go unnoticed. What would that feel like to walk among the people and not get stared at by everyone? Ogled. What would it be like to be free? Free of the beauty that restricts her. Free of the chains that come with a face that ties her to everyone. 
She wondered, “what would it be like?”
To have a love. A love that loved her for her, not her beauty. A love that would get to know her, take the time to know her for her. A love that she could love back, and talk to, and hold. Hold close to her. A love that would close their eyes when they kissed her. Not stare in disbelief. 
She wondered, “what would it be like?”
To be free. To do the things that others do. To be able to listen and watch others without being put up on a platform, a stage. To admire without being admired. To sing without being sung to. To love without being loved. To earn her way, without being given. All because she’s pretty. All because she’s so pretty. 
She wondered, “what would it be like?”

Cha-writer

awinterkissx | your reflection on my frames.

Mars Kneale

Emily St. John Mandel, Station Eleven

Johnny Depp (via wnq-movies)

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov (via fyp-philosophy)

Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner

Cornelia Funke, Inkspell