when I am lonely for boys it’s their bodies I miss. I study their hands lifting the cigarettes in the darkness of the movie theaters, the slope of a shoulder, the angle of a hip. looking at them sideways, I examine them in different lights. my love for them is visual: that is the part of them I would like to possess. don’t move, I think. stay like that, let me have that.” -margaret atwood,...
Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier...– Homer, The Iliad (via panda—)
i would kill to be your clothes cling to your body and hang from your bones i...– (a poem for ruben)
I dream. Sometimes I think that’s the only right thing to do. To dream, to live...– Haruki Murakami (via wingsforlashes)
I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.– Edgar Allan Poe (via limbes)
ambedo n. a kind of melacholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life
These woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles...– Robert Frost (via shesinacoma)