Stargazer-forever - Stargazer-forever

I wish writing stained you the way art does: fingertips gray with charcoal, bright paint splattered against a face, wet clay drying on skin. To be looked at and to be thought of an artist. 

Sometimes I look at these hands and imagine ink dripping down my nails, my palms, my wrists. Onto the floor. Black blood and the type of visual beauty that doesn’t exist yet, and maybe never will.

Wow

being self aware is the worst thing ever. can’t even be pissed at my dad properly without having a disco elysium ass internal monologue about it

-Emily Dickinson, Emily Dickinson’s Poems: As She Preserved Them

they don't make staying up until 3am fun and exciting like they used to

i have been meaning to reach out to you but the window was open and everything seemed so lovely outside so i forgot.. but i still love you give me just a minute