i wish you couldn't figure me out, but you'd always want to know what i was about./ i wish you had a favorite beauty spot that you loved secretly cause it was on a hidden bit that nobody else could see. /i wish i was the last thing on your mind before you went to sleep.

perdu et seul


If you loved me why’d you leave me

(via girl-electric)


Berlin Kiss, 1996 Harry Benson
I wake up every morning and choose you, without a second thought.
Peyton Scott (homewrecks)

(Source: writershigh, via noahemily)

cant stop crying

keep watching foreign films

without subtitles 

and tracing words onto my skin

with pens that won’t work 

counting scratches from

running in the woods

Kisses her eyes goodbye 
I’m on the next train leavin

2.2014, apartment

just when you thought you had lost everything

you lose more

You see her for the first time and she’ll walk right past you like you are a crack in the wall and she is a skyscraper with her head so high in the air and when you can’t sleep you’ll think about the way her eyes strayed into yours for a moment too long before breaking away and disappearing into the crowd of people.

She’ll look both ways before telling you she loves you under her breath and when she hugs you her eyes scan the empty room as if the walls had eyes and ears and mouths that could give you away.

When she’s curled up on your lap shaking with mismatched breaths you’ll wonder how someone who looked like she carried mountains on her shoulders could crumble so easily in your arms like the tornado in her mind finally hit her and knocked her off her feet.

In half-light she’ll run her fingers over your arms like she is reading words carved into your skin, binding them together into the perfect metaphor and you’ll hear it playback in your head at 4am when your head runs wild with thoughts of her.

You’ll find a safe haven on rooftops and abandoned rooms where she’ll set fire to your insides with hushed breaths between kisses planted perfectly on your lips and make you wonder how dangerous it is to play with wild flames while your body is made of paper.

You’ll stare God right in the eye and tell him that if loving her was a sin then you want no place in heaven with him because the way her lips fit perfectly on your neck is a type of paradise you’ll never forget.

The six stages of falling in love with her. // by rb (via rbcages)

(via wefoundloveinabologna)


This has got to be one of the best things on this entire website
I felt like crying but nothing came out. It was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can’t feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. But I think I have known it pretty often, too often.
Charles Bukowski  (via blackistheonlycolor)

(via wildchildfullof-grace)


Heitor MagnoUntitled, 2014