Azra Tabassum's Blog, page 149

I can't stop reading “These wrists, these eyes, these praying hands.” I just can't stop. It's everything I've ever wanted to read, everything I feel but can't say. It's beautiful. it's shameless, it's true. Thank you for writing it. I feel like those are s

Thank you baby!!! Wrote it for/about a man who feels about as gentle as a butterfly wing against tender skin.

"I have longed for people before, I have loved people before.Not like this.It was not this."

“

I have longed for people before, I have loved people before.

Not like this.

It was not this.

”

- Anne Carson, from Tag 

Thank you wild butt sex, a sentence that I never thought I would...

Thank you wild butt sex, a sentence that I never thought I would ever say

Ive seen hijabis on my follow list show hair and not a peep outta anyone. But you show hair and they come after you. Please. You basically sound like one of those ~my religion is so annoying~~~ types ugh

Once someone saw a flash of my neck in a selfie and made a point to tell me about it………..

will you post a picture of your hair when you're done?? please???

you know i would but the amount of shit i’d get from my muslim followers really isn’t worth the angst of it! it’s very light though even though i left it on for such a long time! my hair is like a black hole, honestly. 

i am ombre-ing my hair, i figure if it goes badly i will just tell people that i attempted to be a...

i am ombre-ing my hair, i figure if it goes badly i will just tell people that i attempted to be a lioness and failed miserably 

hatfullofsky:You think you’re going to be hip and teen forever and then suddenly you find yourself...

hatfullofsky:

You think you’re going to be hip and teen forever and then suddenly you find yourself drinking red wine and playing board games and lusting after men with beards 

coldemi:Dear Diary, by sherbet tone on Flickr.

coldemi:

Dear Diary, by sherbet tone on Flickr.

Photo

"You don’t rememberthat you woke, placedyour palm against my sun-drunk neckand asked,..."

“You don’t remember

that you woke, placed

your palm against my sun-

drunk neck

and asked, “Is

everything alright?” The night and I

             woke feral.”

- Jessica Morey-Collins, from "Crow Song of the Mojave Desert" (via pigmenting)