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...
“You don’t have to feel guilty about being late, it’s just your natural reaction towards time.” - May Pool
I love unmade beds. I love when people are drunk and crying and cannot be...– (via ghosts-falling)
The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too...– Ernest Hemingway (via isolement)