1. You do this, you do.
    You take the things you love
    and tear them apart
    or you pin them down with your body and pretend they’re yours.
    — Richard Siken, from “A Primer for Small Weird Loves,” in Crush (Yale University Press, 2005)

    (Source: literarymiscellany, via iramblenow)





  5. imaginehanniballecter:

    Imagine Hannibal Lecter at a vegetarian restaurant. 


  6. Just Bent.

    I want to show you my beauty
    Show off how the flowers have bloomed
    Fought off the weeds

    See how theyre nestled
    Making shrapnel their home
    Imbibing power from
    Your explosive words which failed 
    To bring me to my knees.

    You would be in awe
    Feel it in your bones
    If only you’d bother to look deeper
    If only you could know.


  7. Blackhole.

    Everything is tinted scarlet
    apart from your memory.
    It is preserved
    Crystal clear
    In the darkest corner

    Dark not because it
    Breaks me to think of you -
    But black only so
    You can shine through.

    I go there now
    When the world burns my eyes
    Your blinding light
    A numb solace.

    I embrace it now
    Never to let go
    Drown in the shallow depth
    Too dense to stay afloat.



  9. Weeds are flowers, too, once you get to know them.

    A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh

    Happy Pooh Day! A.A. Milne would have been 132 today :)

    (Source: wordsbydan)


  10. Oh, Sherlock. What have you done?

    (Source: chocolatehiddlestoner)



  12. bipolarmolar:

    I do, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, I do. :3 <3

    (Source: maxineleanora)


  13. Did anybody really die on the rooftop?
    — the whole Sherlock Fandom (via sherlocks-east-wind)


  15. There is no God.

    She is beautiful. Poetically sad, with distant eyes. Always loved a good belly rub. I’m talking about a dog I see on my way to college. She was always affectionate, but not the typically exuberant golden retriever, but lovely nonetheless.

    And she is dying.

    She has cancer. 

    I feel broken. I barely know her and I can’t stop crying. It scares me breathless that I’m already referring to her in the past tense. I can’t believe that she will just stop existing after a while. Like she never was. Does that make sense? It is just not fair. Why does she have to suffer so much? For the first time today I saw the suffering and bravery in her warm chestnut eyes. It broke me. I’ve been on the edge so many times, but I never thought that news of a dog I met on my way to college would break me, but it has. I wish there was something I could do. How can I go on knowing that she certainly cannot?