halfempty
Status:
Miss me?
Joined: April 16, 2011
Last Seen: 1 month
Birthday: November 4
user id: 165851
Location: Hyrule
Gender: F
Joined: April 16, 2011
Last Seen: 1 month
Birthday: November 4
user id: 165851
Location: Hyrule
Gender: F
3,818
Quotes
13,108 Favorites
15 Following
1,704 Followers
Comment Points
Comments
Comments on Quotes
Comments by User
Quote Comments by User
Flair
13,108 Favorites
15 Following
1,704 Followers
Comment Points
Comments
Comments on Quotes
Comments by User
Quote Comments by User
Flair
I'm Rachelle, I'm 17, and I like white hot chocolate.
"I believed that I wanted to be a poet, but deep down I just wanted to be a poem."
tumblr | writing instagram | 8tracks | more links
"I believed that I wanted to be a poet, but deep down I just wanted to be a poem."
tumblr | writing instagram | 8tracks | more links
Quotes by halfempty
I want to be the one whose
affection
seeps so deeply into your mouth
until everything your lips touch tastes like
the ice cream we ate on the Fourth of July
and
I want to be the one whose love
wraps around each stitch on your sweaters
until every item of clothing you own smells like
the perfume I wore the first day we met
and I want to be the one whose endearment
fills the space underneath your fingernails
until every hand you hold for the rest of your life feels like
mine.
r.m.
seeps so deeply into your mouth
until everything your lips touch tastes like
the ice cream we ate on the Fourth of July
and
I want to be the one whose love
wraps around each stitch on your sweaters
until every item of clothing you own smells like
the perfume I wore the first day we met
and I want to be the one whose endearment
fills the space underneath your fingernails
until every hand you hold for the rest of your life feels like
mine.
r.m.
When you left,
not only did my heart break,
but my stomach collapsed and
my lungs shattered and
my ribcage was reduced to a pile of rubble.
I've sat waiting, 43 days,
for somebody with steel thread
to come and stitch together
each piece of my tattered organs.
I want them to sew my burst veins
back together until their fingerprints
are embroidered on my flesh.
I know eventually the seams
will start to tear again,
but maybe this time,
stars will pour out of my tissues
Where blood used to be.
Or maybe they'll notice their knots shaking loose
and pull them tighter
before I get the chance to crumble.
r.m.
not only did my heart break,
but my stomach collapsed and
my lungs shattered and
my ribcage was reduced to a pile of rubble.
I've sat waiting, 43 days,
for somebody with steel thread
to come and stitch together
each piece of my tattered organs.
I want them to sew my burst veins
back together until their fingerprints
are embroidered on my flesh.
I know eventually the seams
will start to tear again,
but maybe this time,
stars will pour out of my tissues
Where blood used to be.
Or maybe they'll notice their knots shaking loose
and pull them tighter
before I get the chance to crumble.
r.m.
Day 1
I saw your photos of the sunrise on Instagram and the way your camera lense intensified each shade of wildly beautiful pink and violet. (Just like they always did.) I can't help wondering why you were awake at 4 am. Just to see the sunrise, or to show it to somebody else?
Day 89
It isn't even half past five o'clock in the morning but I've never felt happier to have been woken up. My alarm feels like the screaming of banshees, but my text tone sounds more delightful than three purring kittens. I've unlocked my cell phone to a picture of the sky seen from out your window every dawn for the past 3 days. I can see the other side of the clouds from my house. It's only sensical to respond with my perspective. Together our pictures of the sunrise give a complete view of the sky, and Instagram doesn't even know. It's our secret.
Day 198
I used to enjoy watching dark shades of navy blue dissipate to leave behind light cyans and golds, and a long period of my life was spent admiring photos of it. But never had I even dreamt of a morning where the sun had awoken as brilliantly as this one. If I had known that to accentuate the beauty of each orange hue was to watch it from your arms, I would have done it the moment I was born. The white paint on your windowpane was glowing almost as brightly as our smiles, and even though we were missing the view from the other side of the sky, the warmth of your skin made up for it.
Day 250
I've pulled my shades down so far over my windows that I fear my neighbors think I've gone crazy. I hear evil cackling from the horizon every morning when I wake up. I haven't used my alarm in weeks because I am afraid that I'll accidentally look right through the sunrise to see you and her smiling together at the sky on the other side, just like we did. I've never seen a dark pink that looked so much like blood, and the only thing as cerulean as the 5 am clouds are my tears. I can leave school and I can get out of my car, but I can never escape the sky.
Day 365
I never noticed how the sky holds more beauty than that in the early hours of the morning. Today, somebody took my hand in their left and used their right to point higher than the treetops, and with that small gesture, they taught me that every day I treated 6 pm as it were 6 pm. I made the mistake of hardly noticing blues darkening to reds and deep violets, or stars emerging where clouds were once floating. I think someday I’ll find someone who takes pictures of flowers and watches clouds with me during any time of the day. And I think as long as the sun doesn’t crash when it goes to set, I’ll be okay.
r.m.
I saw your photos of the sunrise on Instagram and the way your camera lense intensified each shade of wildly beautiful pink and violet. (Just like they always did.) I can't help wondering why you were awake at 4 am. Just to see the sunrise, or to show it to somebody else?
Day 89
It isn't even half past five o'clock in the morning but I've never felt happier to have been woken up. My alarm feels like the screaming of banshees, but my text tone sounds more delightful than three purring kittens. I've unlocked my cell phone to a picture of the sky seen from out your window every dawn for the past 3 days. I can see the other side of the clouds from my house. It's only sensical to respond with my perspective. Together our pictures of the sunrise give a complete view of the sky, and Instagram doesn't even know. It's our secret.
Day 198
I used to enjoy watching dark shades of navy blue dissipate to leave behind light cyans and golds, and a long period of my life was spent admiring photos of it. But never had I even dreamt of a morning where the sun had awoken as brilliantly as this one. If I had known that to accentuate the beauty of each orange hue was to watch it from your arms, I would have done it the moment I was born. The white paint on your windowpane was glowing almost as brightly as our smiles, and even though we were missing the view from the other side of the sky, the warmth of your skin made up for it.
Day 250
I've pulled my shades down so far over my windows that I fear my neighbors think I've gone crazy. I hear evil cackling from the horizon every morning when I wake up. I haven't used my alarm in weeks because I am afraid that I'll accidentally look right through the sunrise to see you and her smiling together at the sky on the other side, just like we did. I've never seen a dark pink that looked so much like blood, and the only thing as cerulean as the 5 am clouds are my tears. I can leave school and I can get out of my car, but I can never escape the sky.
Day 365
I never noticed how the sky holds more beauty than that in the early hours of the morning. Today, somebody took my hand in their left and used their right to point higher than the treetops, and with that small gesture, they taught me that every day I treated 6 pm as it were 6 pm. I made the mistake of hardly noticing blues darkening to reds and deep violets, or stars emerging where clouds were once floating. I think someday I’ll find someone who takes pictures of flowers and watches clouds with me during any time of the day. And I think as long as the sun doesn’t crash when it goes to set, I’ll be okay.
r.m.
I want to hear you mindlessly
humming
a song more often than the rest and
I want to be the one to put it on a mixtape
for you to sing along with in the car.
I want to watch your face contort into
concentration when you try to take
a decent picture with your iPhone and
I want to give you a quality camera so that
your passion for photography can be fueled.
I want to take the opportunity to figure you out but
I want you to give it to me first.
r.m.
a song more often than the rest and
I want to be the one to put it on a mixtape
for you to sing along with in the car.
I want to watch your face contort into
concentration when you try to take
a decent picture with your iPhone and
I want to give you a quality camera so that
your passion for photography can be fueled.
I want to take the opportunity to figure you out but
I want you to give it to me first.
r.m.
i dreamt that we were friends
and when i woke up,
it felt as though i could just
pick up the phone and call you.
but the second i thought it through,
your bright eyes caught me
like a deer in headlights,
and i knew that
i was completely helpless to
the flawless complexion of
the skin on your cheeks.
r.m.
and when i woke up,
it felt as though i could just
pick up the phone and call you.
but the second i thought it through,
your bright eyes caught me
like a deer in headlights,
and i knew that
i was completely helpless to
the flawless complexion of
the skin on your cheeks.
r.m.