Fuck you for making me feel like I didn’t even deserve you when it’s you who doesn’t deserve me
He kissed me on my forehead before saying: “And I guess we just were together at the wrong time in the wrong life. Maybe in the next one we’ll find our way back to each other and maybe, just maybe, we can love each other the way we never got to.”
—  T.G. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #197
i’m trying to move on. 
but no one i kiss 
tastes quite like you
and i could see someone with the 
same haircut or shoes as you
and my heart skips a beat. 

i can only feel better when 
i’m in a drunken haze.
i’m down here in a rabbit hole.
don’t help me out:
down here, i can forget. 
—  j.e.b. ((about struggling to move on.))
And I knew that was it. And I stopped thinking about you.
But now.
Slowly, ever so slowly you’re coming back.
You’re coming through my thoughts again.
Your smile. Your face. The way we seemed to of connected.
—  I don’t want them memories back, it just reminds me of how much we lost.

(She’s the kind of dreamer that lives in vodka and fairy tales and the hope that one day he will realize that he missed out on the most beautiful goddamn thing he’s ever had the chance to hold onto.)

She’s the kind of lover that loves in marijuana minutes & half smoked cigarettes & drunken hope that one night he’s going to wake up next to a blonde with eyes like the sunrise & suddenly miss her black velvet curls & night sky, starry eyes. And the darkness that once left him afraid.. he’ll crave.

(And she hopes he finds her in his nightmares, her lips on someone else’s lips and her hands tangled up in their hair and she hopes he remembers the way she used to taste like blood and bravery and half of an unfinished love song & she hopes it makes him miss her, the way she misses sleeping pills and being 17.)

He’ll dream about her until he’s wide awake, until every cup of coffee tastes like her name, bitter but so fucking sweet & his hands will shake, remembering how her lips tasted like cherries & second chances. And her only wish is when his blonde bombshell asks what his favorite flavor is, he says cherries. It’s always been cherries.

—  A collab with ( weallwritealong )

Sometimes you want to take every bit of this earth and drench it in love
Sometimes you want to take the clouds out of the sky and question why they are so beautiful and how they came to be admired
Sometimes you walk down corridors and corridors of art just to stare at detail

And these are the things you wanted to be as a person


the earth
The sky
The arts