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i want a word for the almost-home.

that point where the highway’s monotony becomes familiar
that subway stop whose name will always wake you from day’s-end dozing
that first glimpse of the skyline
that you never loved until you left it behind.

what do you call the exit sign you see even in your dreams?
is there a name for the airport terminal you come back to,
comfortably exhausted?

i need a word for rounding your corner onto your street,
for seeing your city on the horizon,
for flying homewards down your highway.

give me a word for the boundary
between the world you went to see
and the small one you call your own.

i want a word for the moment you know
you’re almost home.


written by there and back again, n.m.h. (via anoraborealis)

(via thranduilings)

nmotsi:

vidos island
ocean-hands:

debowies:

sem título by - yuuki on Flickr.

♒ Blue and Serene God ♒
faderdays:

sandy lipped lovers

One.
You see her for the first time and she’ll walk right past you like you are a crack in the wall and she is a skyscraper with her head so high in the air and when you can’t sleep you’ll think about the way her eyes strayed into yours for a moment too long before breaking away and disappearing into the crowd of people.

Two.
She’ll look both ways before telling you she loves you under her breath and when she hugs you her eyes scan the empty room as if the walls had eyes and ears and mouths that could give you away.

Three.
When she’s curled up on your lap shaking with mismatched breaths you’ll wonder how someone who looked like she carried mountains on her shoulders could crumble so easily in your arms like the tornado in her mind finally hit her and knocked her off her feet.

Four.
In half-light she’ll run her fingers over your arms like she is reading words carved into your skin, binding them together into the perfect metaphor and you’ll hear it playback in your head at 4am when your head runs wild with thoughts of her.

Five.
You’ll find a safe haven on rooftops and abandoned rooms where she’ll set fire to your insides with hushed breaths between kisses planted perfectly on your lips and make you wonder how dangerous it is to play with wild flames while your body is made of paper.

Six.
You’ll stare God right in the eye and tell him that if loving her was a sin then you want no place in heaven with him because the way her lips fit perfectly on your neck is a type of paradise you’ll never forget.


written by

The six stages of falling in love with her. // by rb  (via splitterherzen)

Wow!

(via thesuncameouttoplay)

(via youramericantragedy)

20aliens:

Anya Muangkote
vintageux:

 
Do not mock a pain that you haven’t endured.
written by Unknown (via coconutcaves)

(Source: rocknrollbabydoll, via killln)

aviswolf:

all i have wanted 2 do all day is cuddle and drink hot chocolate and watch movies
Me in Seattle, Washington
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love. I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
written by Langston Hughes (via observando)

(via wildlowe)