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About: Sarah. SLO. Great Perhaps. "country from her head to her boots."
beckisbookshelf:

D.I.V.A. Kitty :: Decidedly Important and Very Attractive

beckisbookshelf:

D.I.V.A. Kitty :: Decidedly Important and Very Attractive

(via teacoffeebooks)

“She wasn’t bitter. She was sad, though. But it was a hopeful kind of sad. The kind of sad that just takes time.” —POBAW (via g-oldglitter)

(via h-e-a-v-y-d-o-s-e)

(Source: inc-omparable, via h-e-a-v-y-d-o-s-e)

a-suicidal-boy:

~

a-suicidal-boy:

~

(Source: suicidenotecentral, via h-e-a-v-y-d-o-s-e)

delta-breezes:

Makers Workshop

delta-breezes:

Makers Workshop

(via gildedcoast)

sourire-ala-vie:

Caorle, Italy

sourire-ala-vie:

Caorle, Italy

(Source: instagram.com, via gildedcoast)

(Source: utterlysophia, via funguscloud)

(Source: browndresswithwhitedots, via funguscloud)

(Source: r--e--v--o--l--v--e--r, via in-a-toxic-wonderland)

spiritleaf:

A deer that catches stars in its antlers

spiritleaf:

A deer that catches stars in its antlers

(via nauticalnausicaa)

etsy:

Wishing for a dreamy weekend. 

etsy:

Wishing for a dreamy weekend. 

(via takethestares)

(Source: jawlined, via takethestares)

holding out
impossibly bated breath
blue like the morning
as it touches the canvas
of your sheets,
billows of cloud
tucked over
skin-
this is not what
i asked for.

i never said
i needed more
than a hand to hold,
any promise
for you to touch my heart;
instead,
you lent me your body
and a person
who cared
much more than is sure
as the stars.

i wish
(as though the certainty
of those celestial jewels
were concrete)
that you were less afraid.
your fear,
burning like a forest fire,
sinks its teeth
into your copper skin,
reflective and deep;
you touch me too tenderly
for me to believe
that i am just an embellished vessel-
you speak to me too softly
for me to believe
that you don’t feel at least
half of what i do.

i need words-
less poetic than a letter,
but more honest than one as well-
written on my wrists
so that when i look at my hands
(holding yours,
holding air)
i understand
why
you can’t give yourself
what you want most,
or why i am able,
finally,
to wrap you in my arms,
too pale for anything but the moon
or warmed clay limbs,
and keep your monsters
away.

—melissa elbee, “blue mornings” (via writers-sickness)

(via nauticalnausicaa)

(Source: alyssabenedetto, via nauticalnausicaa)

(Source: we-love-rain, via funguscloud)

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