i never really got there, i just pretended that i had
Eva Paià
Some days I want to sit in my sadness
like a parked car, engine still hot
but breathing,
waiting for a song to end.
But some never do.
Emilia Phillips, Moonpie
Esben Bøg Jensen
Deb Perrotta
Have you ever been so melancholy, that you wanted to fit in the palm of your beloved’s hand? And lie there, for fortnights, or decades, or the length of time between stars? In complete silence?
Sarah Ruhl, Melancholy Play
No Need To Argue by The Cranberries

I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes.

Nizar Qabbani, What Love Can Do

María Juárez

Love is, above all, fucking exhausting.

Agostini Kenzo
Alexandre Testezlaf
Why do I find everything but peace?
Anaïs Nin, from a diary entry featured in Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary; 1939-1947
Park City, Utah
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