My memory loves you; it asks about you all the time.

—

(Source: larmoyante, via astroemia)

shadow-writer:

Sometimes, when it’s really quiet and really late, I’ll let myself go there.

I’ll write a little one act play in my head in which you and I are the only players. I will be beautiful and desirable and float about in something diaphanous and my hair will move when I walk as if picked up by soft…

How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn’t pull the trigger?

—

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via aurorainred)

We sit and talk quietly,
with long lapses of silence,
and I am aware of the stream that has no language,
coursing beneath the quiet heaven of your eyes, which has no speech.

—

(Source: larmoyante, via journalofanobody)

Some people underestimate how erotic it is to be understood.

—

(Source: rabbitinthemoon, via writingsforwinter)

I’ll walk forever with stories inside me that the people I love the most can never hear.

—

(via largerloves)

I am inside someone
who hates me.

—

(Source: larmoyante, via dandelion-tail)