Charles Bukowski, “Prayer In Bad Weather.” Love Is A Dog From Hell (via oceanghosts)
(via lyndeeelite)
“
I would give anything
for a female’s hand on me
tonight.
they soften a man and
then leave him
listening to the rain.
Salmo. (via 230km)
(Source: music-isallyouneed, via thiswildelectricity)
“
Mi dicevi di star bene con sorrisi fatti in plastica
substrate (somewhere by the pier).
a silent spread of blush
over
waves
(the way you
wash over me)
a sky dripping
into
the ocean
gold and salty and warm
where we dip our toes
and make the sidewalk ripple
you and i
(and the sun)finding a sort of
completion.
(via thedustdancestoo)
Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
Vincent van Gogh (via fscottfitzgerald)
(Source: larmoyante, via fscottfitzgerald)
“
I would rather die of passion than of boredom.
(Source: missingbees)
To limit a story to a page is
either brilliant writing
or an untold tragedy.
Anne Sexton, “Going Gone” (via violentwavesofemotion)
(via fleurishes)
“
You who have inhabited me
in the deepest and most broken place,
are going, going.
i’m jealous of
your pillows
and of your sheets
i want to hear
the sound of
your heartbeat
(Source: goldenspine, via shittybloggu)
Cormac McCarthy, The Road
