by natali truax
More you might like
It well may be, That we will never meet again, In this lifetime. So let me say before we part, So much of me, Is made of what I learned from you. You’ll be with me, Like a handprint on my heart. And now whatever way our stories end, I know you have re-written mine, By being my friend… Like a ship blown from its mooring, By a wind off the sea. Like a seed dropped by a skybird, In a distant wood. But because I knew you, I have been changed for good.
Stephen Schwartz
(via seemoreandmore)
(via seemoreandmore)
I pretend to taste you still,
though I haven’t found mouths so bitter.
No one leaves me gasping for air
like your voice did on empty nights.Does your skin miss it’s home in my arms?
when you wake up to lonely midnights
with women and their moon colored skin
and goosebumps rising from your cold.I miss the chill you’d leave in my bones.
They still chatter and whisper your name.
If you promised me anonymity,
it isn’t the only thing you’ve broken.By chance, if I find you again
I’ll bare my skin to remind you of me.
To see if maybe I still have a home
in between those bitter lips.
Meah Dulaney
(via lotsofpinkplaid)
(via lotsofpinkplaid)
What TV has taught me:
- Breaking Bad: It's easier to sell meth than it is to get affordable medical care.
- Hannibal: If someone offers you free psychiatric help, it's probably best to say no.
- Orange is the New Black: If your ex-girlfriend works for an international drug cartel, you should probably be nice to her.
- House: Any small ailment means you are dying and lupus does not exist.
- Game of Thrones: Everything you love will die.
- Supernatural: Everything you love will die repeatedly.
- Criminal Minds: Everything you love will be killed by a white male in his mid thirties.
- Doctor Who: Everything you ever loved about this show will be destroyed by Steven Moffat.
How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. Let me sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.
Virginia Woolf,
The Waves
(via seemoreandmore)
(via seemoreandmore)
trulyvincent
