Intimacy is the art of licking wounds. And it’s taken me years to let anyone kiss me when my lips were chapped.

Late August, by Margaret Atwood

Late August, by Margaret Atwood

(Source: cigrette)

We fall like feathers
oh, but we can fly like wings
if we’re together.
alecshao:

ee cummings - You Are Tired (I Think) - (fragment)

alecshao:

ee cummings - You Are Tired (I Think) - (fragment)

(Source: likeafieldmouse)

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #68 by Tyler Knott Gregson

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #68 by Tyler Knott Gregson

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #61 by Tyler Knott Gregson

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #61 by Tyler Knott Gregson

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #60 by Tyler Knott Gregson

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #60 by Tyler Knott Gregson

Once, I found a butterfly’s wing on the sidewalk.
I wanted to keep it,
but I didn’t.
I knew there were things I should never find beautiful.
Like death.
And girls.
tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #49 by Tyler Knott Gregson

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #49 by Tyler Knott Gregson