Too Many Words, Not Enough Ink

I write for a living, Let me ramble

12,717 notes

I have a habit of falling in love with souls who have yet to be at peace with their bodies, their minds, their weaknesses. I try to build them, to find the parts of them that are missing in me. I end up with holes in my chest.
Farah Gabdon  (via amourstatique)

(Source: larmoyante, via psych-facts)

314 notes

In your arms I forget what the yarn knows of sweaters.
I forget how to hold myself together.
So if I unfold now like a love letter tell me you’ll write back soon.
Andrea Gibson, ‘Yarn’ (via loverofstories)

(via s-emi-colon)

112 notes

When Finally Set Free: Sea Nymph

ordinarywonder:

Editor’s Note: Enchanting. 

therecipeisgone:

The waves have 
Nothing on the
Shape of her thighs
And the skies can’t 
Breathe when she sighs.
She’s the one I want 
In the light, the night 
Would be too envious.
I want to take
Her out on the
Shores of my smile
And rock her with the
Miles of my wile.
She doesn’t need
Those clothes,
Our mouths are
Cover enough.
The wind thinks it’s 
Tought but you 
Haven’t seen rough
Until you’ve seen our
Love. Her bosom
Is my cove and 
I’ll never remove
My face from the
Place where skin
And wind collide.

(via edgeandvoidfriction)