The Burn on her skin was kept in ablaze. The sweet sensation of almost reaching for her poisoned soul. Digging for a treasure only known to the darkest of corners. Once in a while, the distinct fragrance of the most exquisit selection of honey scented sarcasm, dripping from her lips, engraving the word of approval to anyone who asked. Only she knew what was hiding in the dark corners, only she knew how sweet it was to sense as if lit matches were stroking her skin to go to sleep.
“I love unmade beds. I love when people are drunk and crying and cannot be anything but honest in that moment. I love the look in people’s eyes when they realize they’re in love. I love the way people look when they first wake up and they’ve forgotten their surroundings. I love the gasp people take when their favorite character dies. I love when people close their eyes and drift to somewhere in the clouds. I fall in love with people and their honest moments all the time. I fall in love with their breakdowns and their smeared makeup and their daydreams. Honesty is just too beautiful to ever put into words.”—(via ghosts-falling)