Would you be there to hold my hair back while I hunch over a toilet bowl, all horrid and sick, way past midnight into the break of dawn?

(Source: )

Is every reference to my passion, prose, potency and richness in writing- a reference to your glorious contours that make up the shape of your body, features, your perfection even in action; those sweet nothings you nudge and whisper. Potential of a gorgeous commitment.

(Source: )

There is this undeniable innate force of natural dance in the core of my being. In the back of my mind, there is always this illuminating idea that dance was a part of me, is a part of me. And that maybe it was so mistakenly a misjudgment when I believed that my trial period of dance had finally expired in ability to push through the rigorous hours of practice. And down deep inside is a rhythmical track elegantly and effortlessly matching the traveling vibrations, vibeing and prompting response. No thought just body imagery telling, a fresh version of the artist’s story. Motion in time, gracefully playing out the distinguished path like spilled liquid. The weirdness is mesmerizing. My body melts into the traveling lights fibers- pumping my heart alive. I feel the emotion on every point of my skin. Never again could I give this feeling up, here I turn back and recede to the past. 

Lykke Li I surrender. 

(Source: whisperedpassions)

Weak  ankles

Weak dreams

Clouds close their eyes

Trembling for tomorrow

That reaps of starting lines

Which brings chances