acupofkeen:

The other day,  you called at 4am  and there was silence  for a few,  until you spoke  a crack in tone,
"How do I erase you?"
we lay silent  and still  hoping the night  would swallow us  beneath the ground  without a heart  to beat for each.
"How do I forget you?"
I’ve told many  long ago,  that I wouldn’t promise  myself for one but then you came  and I turned myself  around,  undone.
"How do I unlove you?"
I don’t know  however many you’ve loved before. But I know best  not to stand  in between a way  of a love I know not  how to return.

acupofkeen:

The other day,
you called at 4am
and there was silence
for a few,
until you spoke
a crack in tone,

"How do I erase you?"

we lay silent
and still
hoping the night
would swallow us
beneath the ground
without a heart
to beat for each.

"How do I forget you?"

I’ve told many
long ago,
that I wouldn’t promise
myself for one
but then you came
and I turned myself
around,
undone.

"How do I unlove you?"

I don’t know
however many
you’ve loved before.
But I know best
not to stand
in between a way
of a love I know not
how to return.

(via canye-west)

@6 hours ago with 392 notes
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@1 day ago with 10796 notes

Me in two sentences.

Me:I won't get jealous
Me:Who's this fucking whore
@1 day ago with 906857 notes

"When sex becomes a production or performance that is when it loses its value. Be mutual. Be loud. Be clumsy. Make noises, be quiet, and make a mess. Bite, scratch, push, pull, hold, thrust. Remove pressure from the moment. Love the moment. Embrace it. Enjoy your body; enjoy your partners’ body. Produce sweat, be natural, entice your senses, give into pleasure. Bump heads, miss when you kiss, laugh when it happens. Speak words, speak with your body, speak to their soul. Touch their skin, kiss their goose bumps, and play with their hair. Scream, beg, whimper, sigh, let your toes curl, lose yourself. Chase your breath; keep the lights on, watch their eyes when they explode. Forget worrying about extra skin, sizes of parts and things that are meaningless. Save the expectations, take each second as it comes. Smear your make up, mess up your hair, rid your masculinity, and lose your ego. Detonate together, collapse together, and melt into each other."

(via dothelittlethings)

Don’t usually reblog stuff like this but this is actually just beautiful so read it

(via a-life-with-purpose)

(Source: onedirtydiamond, via dontletlifefuckyou)

@1 day ago with 285812 notes
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timothykelleherseyebrows:

*cuts all my sweaters and jeans like this*

(via cogaz)

@6 hours ago with 1382 notes
@1 day ago with 481 notes

"One day, she’s going to know. She’ll know your birthday, your middle name, where you were born, your star sign, and your parents names. She’ll know how old you were when you learnt to ride a bike, how your grandparents passed away, how many pets you had, and how much you hated going to school. She’ll know your eye colour, your scars, your freckles, your laugh lines and your birth marks. She’ll know your favourite book, movie, candy, food, pair of shoes, colour, and song. She’s going to know why you’re awake at 5am most nights, where you were when you realised you’d lost a good friend, why you picked up the razor and how you managed to put it down before things went too far. She’s going to know your phobias, your dreams, your fears, your wishes, and your worries. She’s going to know about your first heartbreak, your dream wedding, and your problems with your parents. She’ll know your strengths, weaknesses, laziness, energy, and your mixed emotions. She’s going to know about your love for mayonnaise, your dream of being famous when you were five, your need to quote any film you know all the way through, and your fear of growing older. She’ll know your bad habits, your mannerisms, your stroppy pout, your facial expressions, and your laugh like it’s her favourite song. The way you chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget and kiss. She’s going to know that you’ve already picked out wedding flowers, baby names, tiles for the bathroom, bridesmaid dresses, and the colour of your bedroom walls. She’s going to know, get annoyed at and then accept that you leave clothes everywhere, take twenty minutes to order a Starbucks, have to organise your DVD’s alphabetically, and check your horoscope… just incase. She’ll know your McDonald’s order, how many sugars to put in your tea, how many scoops of ice cream you want, and that you need your sandwiches cut into triangles. She’s going to know how you feel without you telling her, that you need a wee from a look on your face, and that you’re crying without shedding tears. She’s going to know all of it. Everything. You, from top to bottom and inside out. From learning, from sharing, from listening, from watching. She’s going to know every single thing there is to know, and you know what else? She is still going to love you."

@1 day ago with 471182 notes
so-personal:

everything personal

so-personal:

everything personal

(Source: wanderlustfu-l, via dontletlifefuckyou)

@1 day ago with 494414 notes
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