August 2012
flesh & blood poems
writingsforwinter:
there are some poems that crawl up your spine
and nestle into your shirt,
wind their way around your skin like hands.
they say, i wrote this for you,
i became this for you,
i am you.
and with a love like that, you’ve got to believe them.
someone wrote this for you.
writingsforwinter:
once, as i was looking for books
at the library,
i opened one up
and there was a card stuck inside of it.
it read,
if you are sad today,
remember that you exist.
if you forget that you exist,
accept that you are alive.
if you wish you weren’t alive,
realize that you are loved.
if you don’t believe you are loved,
know that someone wrote this for you.
i checked that...
sergeant-pepper:
Shakespeare’s King Lear reads
Fortune, that arrant whore,
Ne’er turns the key to th’ poor.
All I can help but think is I know the feels, Will, I know the feels.
It was really hard for me to tell my dad that I like show tunes.
mareeps:
still not sure what exactly math is
reblog if it's okay to start talking to you
“But I must admit I miss you quite terribly. The world is too quiet without you...”
– Lemony Snicket (via sinkyourlungs)
