I want life in every word.: One should never make the mistake of underestimating words. The right...

One should never make the mistake of underestimating words. The right collection of them, displayed on shelves crafted from the best intentions and stacked such that the layers can only be discovered upon the closest of inspections, can be priceless. I have watched in breathless silence as words sliced and sheared hearts, minds, souls without the victims knowing. Words have burned cities in blazes of white-hot natural disaster and given rise to civilizations like a laboring mother. All things are words and all words are things, and even “thing” can be tossed aside and replaced with a word more fitting or kept right where it is and used to make any human feel like a disposable object—“you are a pitiful, ugly little thing, aren’t you?” All I’m saying is that you should never, ever make the mistake of underestimating words.

All the world tells me I am much too young.“Much too young, sweet girl, to love, to live, to know much of anything.” The world hates me, you know. Once, when I was even younger than too young, I jumped into it’s horrible mouth and sliced out its tongue. In triumph I threw the wretched, toxic thing to the heavens. Instead of disappearing it exploded; poison rained down and infected every breathing being, all of whom now tell me I am much too young to know much of anything.

(Source: tierneylee)

To write is to make a conscious attempt to both fill and empty the soul at the same time.

(Source: tierneylee)

Words can be everything and they can be nothing. Some days I feel the full force of my spirit weighing itself with each verse, but sometimes I swear the lines drip with a dryness that mocks me, pokes at the spaces between my ribs and dares me to call myself a writer.

I want life in every word.: No one is perfect.

No one is perfect. Happiness will find you once you realize this, but no sooner. Until you are able to recognize that striving to be this or that which falls outside the boundaries of who and what you truly are is entirely pointless and hopelessly wasteful of your talents as determined by God, you will forever find yourself unsatisfied and inconsolable. Take my advice, set down the magazine, navigate away from that “flawless” girl’s website, and turn off the television, because there is a task far more important that needs to be tackled. Right now—in real, tangible, all-or-nothing life—you must figure out who you are so that you may enjoy the contentment, lightheartedness, and joy that follows. No one is perfect, but genuine, lasting bliss is certainly attainable.

I want life in every word.: Why do I love him?

Why do I love him? He wakes me with the sunrise, with a buttercream kiss, with a breakfast invitation whispered into the ear that hasn’t been buried in his pillow for the better part of his night shift. We live our lives this way, letting passion shade not only our conversations, but also the seemingly inconsequential moments in which we brush past one another in our quaint kitchen. Still, forever and always, we are deeply thankful for the sparks that continually pass between us and define our relationship. I love him because my soul cannot seem to figure out what else to do with him—with his effects and affects and his incredible being.

I want life in every word.: The space heater you turned on when you left is spinning strands of...

The space heater you turned on when you left is spinning strands of warm air around this frozen body, but the web is nowhere near as strong as we had hoped. Whisper-thin hairs are soldiers atop goose-pimpled flesh. You, I’m sure, are elbows propped on an abused piece of wood somewhere in the frigid depths of years of neglect. You, I’m sure, are thoughts that revolve less around restoring broken homes and more around your lover’s soft skin. Our minds are one despite the distance and as your neurons fire I find myself wishing they would either spark and ignite or fill you with an urgent need to fill your arms with me.

I want life in every word.: Being in love, in a word, is beautiful. Being in love, in several...

Being in love, in a word, is beautiful. Being in love, in several words, is knowing that there is a soul that shines brighter because of you, feeling strengthened and empowered by a set of bones and muscles that live to help, hold, support, and push you, trusting that the flesh you so often touch, kiss, bite, caress, and marvel at will stay true and pure in your absence, and offering all of yourself without pause, endlessly, joyfully. I look forward to loving you every day for the rest of my life, and to all of the incredible moments that are sure to find us as we become one in marriage, make a home for ourselves, create precious lives together, and live in Christ. I long for your presence, but more than that I long for your happiness and peace of mind, as those are the things that become most important when you love. You have taught me that love isn’t a feeling. Love is a connection between souls, the thread that ties people together. I am not in love with a feeling, I am in love with you—a man who drives me insane and lets me sleep against him as he drives, fills me with rage and fills my life with passion, stands up to me and stands up for me, sees and says it like it is and appreciates my opinions, supports me in all I do as I support him, and, most importantly, who loves every brilliantly flawed piece of me in the same beautiful way I love him. So I promise to love you always. I promise to look at you with eyes filled with a deep desire for each and every inch of you and you alone, a desire that will only grow as wrinkles populate your beautiful skin and the pigment leaves your soft, blonde locks. I promise to listen intently as you share your life with me, so that I may take part in your delights and hardships and so that I may be the historian upon whom the world calls when it finds itself curious about the life of its most splendid specimen.  I promise to touch you frequently, passionately, and in a way that never ceases to bring you back to this moment, to me, to your home. I promise to always find myself soothed by the implication inherent in the presence of your captivating scent: you are near, I am safe, all is well. I promise to look forward to the sweetness of your lips and the saltiness of your skin, and to allow the bitter taste of your absence to serve as a reminder of how blessed I am to be yours. I promise to love you always and forever, my dearest soulmate.

Where has all the inspiration gone?

(Source: tierneylee)

Darling, take my hand, my heart, my head—just leave me a little piece of you in return.

(Source: tierneylee)