since 5/1/12 moulant
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I believed that I wanted to be a poet, but deep down I just wanted to be a poem.
by Jaime Gil de Bieda (via llenalena)

(Source: light-essence, via letsnottalkaboutnextsummer)

krysalides: 03860018 by hannahlula. on Flickr.
phosphore: thats it for the other one (by micmojo)
greyveins: 2月14日 (by chara*coco*)
empathetically: (by lorena*arance)
0ut-fitted: 09_06_10178 by cindy beau on Flickr.
baneful: flower (by lilonala)
gildings: 0000100280003006-000006 (by **emilie**)
vvolare: (by takadai)
palides: i will swim to you (by half girl)
corsicans: every song reminds me of you (par cold girl fever)
littleworries: Anonymous asked:  are you ok? x I’m not entirely sure.  I mean, I am a thing that can wander about and blink and breathe, so I am mostly ok, no?  But there are those things; the aches you find in your throat and your chest, deep deep bonesleep - and do you do that thing where you find your awkward little heartbeat in your wrist and keep hold of it until you can do sleeping?  But occasionally someone finds you, with their fingers sometimes, but mostly they look at you just as or before you look at them.   And they don’t know you much or at all, but they could and they might and it’s all you can do to stop yourself asking them to meet you somewhere tomorrow, or on the tricksier days, to run away right now and help you search for the big big moon. I think I am ok.  Tonight I am ok.
moulant