Directory For a Sex Photos : lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t say, shhh. I don’t say, it is okay. I wait until it is done having feelings. Then we stand and we go wash the dishes. — Callista Buchen, from “Taking Care,”

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» lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t say, shhh. I don’t say, it is okay. I wait until it is done having feelings. Then we stand and we go wash the dishes. — Callista Buchen, from “Taking Care,”

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

lifeinpoetry: I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t

» Annikesworld: “I Just Want You To Know, These Feelings Didn’t Come On Gradually. They Snuck Up Behind Me And Punched A Hole Through My Chest.” — Things I Keep From You At 3Am, Jugulate. (Via Alpha–Mermaid)

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