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Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. But then, I wonder if I could handle the truth.
– (via surendranauth)

(Source: disbar, via holdmeclosefornow)






the starry sky on the himalayas

CLICK ON THE PIC BRO

So amazing

Holy

Def click da pic

the starry sky on the himalayas

CLICK ON THE PIC BRO

So amazing

Holy

Def click da pic

(Source: fullmoonwolves, via holdmelikeimyours)

i am no one’s type.
i am a splotch and a shadow
some days i’m floral skirts and smiles like green tea
some days i’m flannel and existential dread

don’t you wish your girlfriend was a grey area like me

maybe the freckles on my cheeks are stars but maybe they’re bullet wounds
the music i make is never the same color twice

for forty days and nights i am silver crosses and lavender soap
but for the next sixty i’m black sweats and music like smoke

i will forever be “a” because I can’t seem to sit still for long enough to become “the”.
i am no one’s type.

– no one’s type (llb)

(Source: fadingdreamsonivorykeys, via caitybate)

I get reckless when I want to
be touched. I call and hang up.
I walk into the middle of the street.
I lie. I dangle my phone out of the
second story window, pretend
I’m saving your life.

The things that I want are shameful.
The things that I want are
meant for spectacular bodies
sprawled out in big beds,
or slammed up against a wall.
All I’ve got is a couch and a
crooked mouth that wants to
bruise your neck, so I’ll pretend
it’s enough to get you to
come home with me.

So what if I’m not spectacular?
I can still have the dream
of you with your hands all over me,
unashamed and hungry, if I want it.

Look, just come over.
Just go with me here,
for a second.
I know you don’t love me.
I know this, but pretend.
Pretend for a while.
I don’t care if I’m special,
as long as you fuck me like I am.
Caitlyn Siehl, Spectacular Bodies (via alonesomes)

(via stay-close-to-me)

Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. But then, I wonder if I could handle the truth.
– (via surendranauth)

(Source: disbar, via holdmeclosefornow)






the starry sky on the himalayas

CLICK ON THE PIC BRO

So amazing

Holy

Def click da pic

the starry sky on the himalayas

CLICK ON THE PIC BRO

So amazing

Holy

Def click da pic

(Source: fullmoonwolves, via holdmelikeimyours)

(Source: ollebosse, via lahhnubcakes)

i am no one’s type.
i am a splotch and a shadow
some days i’m floral skirts and smiles like green tea
some days i’m flannel and existential dread

don’t you wish your girlfriend was a grey area like me

maybe the freckles on my cheeks are stars but maybe they’re bullet wounds
the music i make is never the same color twice

for forty days and nights i am silver crosses and lavender soap
but for the next sixty i’m black sweats and music like smoke

i will forever be “a” because I can’t seem to sit still for long enough to become “the”.
i am no one’s type.

– no one’s type (llb)

(Source: fadingdreamsonivorykeys, via caitybate)

I get reckless when I want to
be touched. I call and hang up.
I walk into the middle of the street.
I lie. I dangle my phone out of the
second story window, pretend
I’m saving your life.

The things that I want are shameful.
The things that I want are
meant for spectacular bodies
sprawled out in big beds,
or slammed up against a wall.
All I’ve got is a couch and a
crooked mouth that wants to
bruise your neck, so I’ll pretend
it’s enough to get you to
come home with me.

So what if I’m not spectacular?
I can still have the dream
of you with your hands all over me,
unashamed and hungry, if I want it.

Look, just come over.
Just go with me here,
for a second.
I know you don’t love me.
I know this, but pretend.
Pretend for a while.
I don’t care if I’m special,
as long as you fuck me like I am.
Caitlyn Siehl, Spectacular Bodies (via alonesomes)

(via stay-close-to-me)

"Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. But then, I wonder if I could handle the truth."
"

i am no one’s type.
i am a splotch and a shadow
some days i’m floral skirts and smiles like green tea
some days i’m flannel and existential dread

don’t you wish your girlfriend was a grey area like me

maybe the freckles on my cheeks are stars but maybe they’re bullet wounds
the music i make is never the same color twice

for forty days and nights i am silver crosses and lavender soap
but for the next sixty i’m black sweats and music like smoke

i will forever be “a” because I can’t seem to sit still for long enough to become “the”.
i am no one’s type.

"
"I get reckless when I want to
be touched. I call and hang up.
I walk into the middle of the street.
I lie. I dangle my phone out of the
second story window, pretend
I’m saving your life.

The things that I want are shameful.
The things that I want are
meant for spectacular bodies
sprawled out in big beds,
or slammed up against a wall.
All I’ve got is a couch and a
crooked mouth that wants to
bruise your neck, so I’ll pretend
it’s enough to get you to
come home with me.

So what if I’m not spectacular?
I can still have the dream
of you with your hands all over me,
unashamed and hungry, if I want it.

Look, just come over.
Just go with me here,
for a second.
I know you don’t love me.
I know this, but pretend.
Pretend for a while.
I don’t care if I’m special,
as long as you fuck me like I am."

About:

19 l Carleton U l Canada

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