christy.19
I’ve had so many knives stuck into me, when they hand me a flower I can’t quite make out what it is. It takes time.
Charles Bukowski, Screams From the Balcony
(Source: rabbitinthemoon)
Night is purer than day; it is better for thinking, loving and dreaming. At night everything is more intense, more true. The echo of words that have been spoken during the day takes on a new and deeper meaning.
Elie Wiesel, Dawn
(Source: memereve)
I want to get lost inside of you.
If I were nothing but a mere speck of ash that fell languidly from the tip of some femme fatale’s cigarette,
And landed
onto a piece of driftwood that coasted along the onyx moons of your mind,
Enveloping me in milky waves and flitting thoughts,
I’d dry my hair, take off my shoes,
Settle into a cave deep within you,
And read by candlelight.
If I were nothing but a mere speck of ash that fell languidly from the tip of some femme fatale’s cigarette,
And landed
onto a piece of driftwood that coasted along the onyx moons of your mind,
Enveloping me in milky waves and flitting thoughts,
I’d dry my hair, take off my shoes,
Settle into a cave deep within you,
And read by candlelight.
Flowerina
(Source: flowerina)
