But never have I been a blue calm sea,
I have a l w a y s been a storm.
and he burns holes in your skin
with his mouth.
AND I SHOULD'VE CRASHED THE CAR
when I was all alone.
ESCAPE FROM ALL I KNOW.
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IMAGE SOURCE: tumblr.com, original photographer unknown
Please don't remove this, or make it invisible!
IMAGE SOURCE: tumblr.com, original photographer unknown
I RAN AWAY FROM YOU, AND NOW
something's killing me. . .
YOU HANG ME UP AS A SOUVENIR OF WHAT I COULDN'T BE.
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IMAGE SOURCE: tumblr.com, original photographer unknown
Please don't remove this, or make it invisible!
IMAGE SOURCE: tumblr.com, original photographer unknown
“The first stab of
love is like a sunset, a blaze of color — oranges,
pearly pinks, vibrant purples... ”
— Anna Godberson
— Anna Godberson
"You are in his car
and your words taste like honey. The suns yolk is stretching over
the road, with hues of pink and red ribbon pressed against the
bruises of the sky. He is talking about mechanics or sugar
factories, and you are touching the rings on your fingers. The
windows are open and the wind is making a home in your bones.
Your jeans are ripped, your perfume smells like lilacs, your
nails painted the color of sea weed. You forget about noise. You
forget about color. It’s your lungs - I think, it’s
your lungs that are morphing into purple butter. You are in his
car and you are Mozart composing art, Claude Monet painting Water
Lilies, you are Aphrodite, you are Shakespeare. You are in his
car and you can’t remember what salt feels like against
your tongue. You are in his car and you are ocean, fire - lip,
tongue, breath, sweat. You are in his car and you are telling him
you love him. You are in his car and he is telling you he loves
you back.”
— you are in his car (via irynka)
— you are in his car (via irynka)
"It’s been
three years and I still think of you sometimes. It’ll be
raining and I’ll be wearing jeans with holes in them,
smelling oddly of lilac perfume and fumes, orange lipstick on my
mouth like skin and I’ll be riding the bus or buying a
movie ticket or texting my mom and I’ll feel you in my
bones. Just for a few seconds. Long enough for you to linger.
Long enough for me to notice. It’s been three years and I
still remember how your laugh tasted on my tongue, like honey and
nectar and something else – something foreign. I hold your
name in my liver like liquor, I hold your words in my spine like
acid. It’s been three years and I miss you. Miss you so
much it hurts my ribs some days. The sky is cracking and the sun
is yolk and everything is smoke except the memory of you, the
memory of us. It’s been three years and I still think of
you sometimes.”
— i still think of you sometimes (via irynka)
— i still think of you sometimes (via irynka)
We were all out of road, and I knew
she could tell, 'cause she leaned across
MY LAP AND BUCKLED MY BELT, AND KISSED ME ON THE
cheek and said, "thanks for the
HELP, AND HOLD ON BOY." WELL SHE YANKED AT THE
wheel and I held my breath, we flipped so many times we should have been dead
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Image is from weheartit, original photographer unknown.
Please don't remove this, or make it invisible!
Image is from weheartit, original photographer unknown.
SOMETHING'S WRONG
and it's not me for once.
You weren't WORTH MY TIME.
YOU WEREN'T WOTH MY
TIME.
but I Still let you
take it from Me!
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IMAGE SOURCE: pinterest.com, original photographer unknown
Please don't remove this, or make it invisible!
IMAGE SOURCE: pinterest.com, original photographer unknown
