Mar. 19, 2013 at 1:29am with 28 notes
Reblogged from allegorys
“
I’d like to divide
myself in order to see,
among these mountains,
each and every flower
of every cherry tree
myself in order to see,
among these mountains,
each and every flower
of every cherry tree
Mar. 18, 2013 at 11:43pm with 259,454 notes
Reblogged from truster
(Source: a-bstruse)
2:35pm with 18,704 notes
Reblogged from chrisidk
(Source: Flickr / gabrielo74)
Mar. 14, 2013 at 8:35pm with 195 notes
Reblogged from sex-death-rebirth
8:34pm with 63,578 notes
Reblogged from flexbone-deactivated20130510
(Source: ccal)
Mar. 12, 2013 at 12:56pm with 238,923 notes
Reblogged from pride
(Source: mrrepzion)
12:55pm with 75,773 notes
Reblogged from recharges
12:52pm with 478 notes
Reblogged from budddha
in the rain // E. E. Cummings
in the rain-
darkness, the sunset
being sheathed i sit and
think of you
the holy
city which is your face
your little cheeks the streets
of smiles
your eyes half-
thrush
half-angel and your drowsy
lips where float flowers of kiss
and
there is the sweet shy pirouette
your hair
and then
your dancesong
soul. rarely-beloved
a single star is
uttered, and i
think
of you
(Source: blejz)
Mar. 10, 2013 at 11:33am with 33,901 notes
Reblogged from concept-of-karma
“
I wonder if you know yet that you’ll leave me. That you
are a child playing with matches and I have a paper body.
You will meet a girl with a softer voice and stronger arms and she
will not have violent secrets or an affection for red wine or eyes
that never stay dry. You will fall into her bed and I’ll go back
to spending Friday nights with boys who never learn my last name.
I have chased off every fool who has tried to sleep beside me
You think it’s romantic to fuck the girl who writes poems about you.
You think I’ll understand your sadness because I live inside my own.
But I will show up at your door at 2 am, wild-eyed and sleepless.
and try and find some semblance of peace in your breastbone
and you will not let me in. You will tell me to go home.
are a child playing with matches and I have a paper body.
You will meet a girl with a softer voice and stronger arms and she
will not have violent secrets or an affection for red wine or eyes
that never stay dry. You will fall into her bed and I’ll go back
to spending Friday nights with boys who never learn my last name.
I have chased off every fool who has tried to sleep beside me
You think it’s romantic to fuck the girl who writes poems about you.
You think I’ll understand your sadness because I live inside my own.
But I will show up at your door at 2 am, wild-eyed and sleepless.
and try and find some semblance of peace in your breastbone
and you will not let me in. You will tell me to go home.
7:49am with 2,180 notes
Reblogged from shroomfairy
(Source: mau5-fan)
