Perfectlyabstract

arutula:

If the boy who draws

lets you look over his shoulder.

If the poet

smiles

and shows you her words.

If the girl who sings for the shower only,

hums a song

in front of you.

Know that you’re no longer a person

but the air

and dust

that fills their lungs.

When the world perishes,

and all things cease to exist,

you’ll remain inside an ink stain,

a paint brush,

a song.

— Alaska Gold

(Source: hereunoia)

How do you even start

To find yourself in writing?

They say write about who you are 

How you feel

But what do you do when 

You don’t have the answers the to those

Questions

Borrowed words and false tongues

Shattered this reflecting sunset

Behind shimmering skies

And exploding stars

You still cant look me in the eye

And convict yourself 

Yours words sew me to the bed

And hold me against my will

thedisreputabledog:

realrobertpattinson:

hey if you teach your parrot to say ‘parrot’ it’s probably as close as you’ll get to owning a pokemon

My brother tells a story about his roommate’s parrot, that everyone who came to the house would say “you’re a bird!” to it so the bird would repeat the phrase back, no big. Until one day my brother was alone in the house with it and heard it say, very quietly, “I’m a bird.” My brother almost dropped a plate.

(Source: doglets)

Lets waste time

Following the white rabbit

Who is always late

angrysouth:

In a ripe meadow we suck the blood out of strawberries;

I know it’s a dream because your hair is a halo,

and your glasses don’t fall off. 

With our backs on the grass,

we kiss in heavy brush strokes.