Jasmin S.
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She was a nomadic lover, a wanderer at heart.
She danced through life with the soul of a gypsy.
Making homes out of people, but never staying long enough to call them her own.
I thought maybe if I loved her enough, she could find my heart to be her forever place.
She was like a metaphor I didn’t understand
An excerpt of a book that I’d never get to read.
Reducing her to just a girl was like reducing poetry to just words. It was like reducing love to just a feeling, and war to a mere disagreement.
I couldn’t pin point home on a map, but I’d found it in her arms.
She no longer lived inside my chest, but she’d left her fingerprints on everything.
And even though I was just another stop on her path; She was my entire journey.
indieluhv (via wnq-writers)
I’m young, but I’m already screwing up my life. I’m smart but not enough – just smart enough to have problems.
Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.
Maybe the reason why some people do not pursue love is because they always feel insufficient and inadequate for someone, or perhaps they got tired of loving that even loving themselves doesn’t seem so easy.
juanlucio (via wnq-writers)


