redhead-blues

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i want to crack her ribcage open and kiss her heart

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i always wanted to be as warm as a freshly printed sheet of paper

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sometimes i get so close to forgiving myself that i have to physically stop and get full head into something else

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Britt Lower in HIGH MAINTENANCE (2016 - 2020).

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fucked up love rhombus and it's Helena's fault fr

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SEVERANCE 2.03- Who Is Alive?

The Board wishes to express that I, Natalie, received the same gift upon receipt of my current position and found it extremely moving.

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the work is mysterious and important

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I told you that you were always going to leave me and you told me "no, of course not" but here I am, left alone with vodka and a world that needs to get a little quieter.

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hayley williams is the coolest person in the world

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♡♱𓆪 oh, take me back to 2014 tumblr

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i befriend people just to sit them down and tell them all about the slope of your nose and how picky you are with your meals. later they will get to know me better and fall in love with the parts of me that used to be ours; when they eventually confess i will dust off your favorite books and let my fingers frantically slide through the pages over and over again until all the paper cuts on the tip of my pointer spell out your name

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but what if i interpret it wrong? you always called me out for being too cynical, so maybe the freckles on your skin spell out my name in braille. maybe the veins and arteries curling in my wrist trace the paths we are destined to walk. we have already happened, are happening, haven't happened yet and will happen, so what's the point in letting a stupid calculation error determine our reactivity? what if the stars whisper not warnings but twinkle in adoration?

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i made myself as sharp and simple as a knife. i had to be content in sharing the light i knew couldn't regenerate; i was fine in letting others devour pieces of me. so i made myself so sharp they would choke. i would slit your throat from the inside, my composition would corrode your guts.

but no one wants a piece of me anymore.

no one behind my back has a dagger in their hand. i wait for the gruesome and cruel but all i get from behind is tight hugs and gentle, whispered reassurances.

so why fight?

who are you up against when the only other person in the room is your own reflection?

why would you want for things to get bloody when it is loved so softly and fiercely?

[redhead-blues]

woe's hollow