(Source: goodassdog, via existential-anxieties)
She’s always high, In heels, spirit, pills, booze. — Charles Bukowski, Love is a dog from hell (via blondist)
(Source: stxxz.us, via lilpeachgrl)
My second grade teacher liked to ask us,
“How do you feel today, on a scale of one to ten?”
Ten always meant I’m super, thank you
and one was always not today, Mrs. MacAuley, not today.
But I never liked numbers, they would always
twist and rebel against my mind so I chose
to speak in colors instead.
January third - I am the color
of mint chocolate chip ice cream
but I’ve eaten all the chocolate chips.
I am calm.
February seventh - I am a bruise of
blues and violets today. I think it would
be best if I sat by the window.
These are unhappy colors.
April eleventh - I am turquoise, I am magenta,
I am every color in the rainbow.
April thirtieth - I am gray, I am silent.
May first - I am orange, the color of melting
creamsicles on a beach in July.
June twelfth - I am as yellow as the school bus
that will bring me home to summer. I am free.
Twelve years later, I still use colors.
The winter makes me feel cobalt blue, the ocean
turns me a seafoam green. Violets and purples
leave me uneasy and scarlet is a fever of fury.
Some nights I drown in shades of navy, denim,
and cornflower but other nights I meditate in forests of
harlequin and shamrock.
me getting ready every day of my life
(Source: smorgasbaby, via fusels)
there are holes in the universe
(Source: thegoldeneternity, via bibliopia)
imagine if it started raining sweaters i think i would start crying it’d be so beautiful
(Source: snapchatting, via beautiful-free)
(Source: matthewtowles, via aliciaaadanielle)