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He doesn’t write poems but you hope
he loves you like one.
You hope he sees you
like a symphony,
like a sculpture,
like paint, like clay,
like something he can get on his hands.
You hope he’s painting you in colors
that don’t even exist just so
he can go looking for the names of them.
You hope he sees you like you are
every sunset he missed
when he wasn’t looking.
You don’t understand the way he thinks,
but you hope he thinks
of you often.
I HOPE HE LOVES ME LIKE AN ARTIST, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)
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Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to admit openly. Some are afraid to show even the slightest sign of affection because of fear. Fear that their feelings may not be recognized, or even worst, returned. But one thing about human beings that puzzles me the most is their conscious effort to be connected with the object of their affection even if it kills them slowly within.
Sigmund Freud (via wordsnquotes)
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Anatomy Lesson: The Rostral pons, Medial lemniscus, ALS, and the Corticospinal Tract in cross section
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WOW!!! These textbooks are are rain-soaked and heavy!!!!!
Thats okaY!! I'm feeling kind of chilly? Looks like I'm not gonna keep these around anymore!!
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Zoe's in the hospital for being bad to herself and I was in the hospital because someone was bad to me
I'm gonna take her place
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A Clockwork Orange, 1971
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space print shirt - $18.27
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Have you seen my keys?
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