I drove home tasting
of smoke and
4am bitterness
afraid the man in the moon
was just like
every other man I’ve met
gazing lovingly
until I reuse to give him
what he wants.
June 2013
53 posts
“She wanted to crawl into his pocket and be safe forever.”
—F. Scott Fitzgerald (via antiqueheart)
“Being an artist means forever healing your own wounds and at the same time endlessly exposing them.”
—(via mols)
“Perhaps they were right putting love into books. Perhaps it could not live anywhere else.”
—William Faulkner (via ciggeret)
