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I was half wolf when you found me. I was all wind when you left.

howl, Amrita C. (via lucreziaborgia)

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Fake movie: The Secret History

Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.

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It’s a tragedy, the way our story goes;maybe, perhaps, almost.

if it’s love, it must be more than most | p.d (via lostcap)

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Sergey Neamoscou | Tumblr

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it is like love: the abrupt, hard certainty of the end—

Louise Glück, from Poems 1962-2012 (via violentwavesofemotion)

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“Seven Hours” by Mira Nedyalkova

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You can stand on the cliff of my heart and shout nothing but ugly through me I promise all I will echo back is Beauty, beauty. You have always been beauty.

Andrea Gibson, “The Moon is a Kite” (via wordsnquotes)

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blue hour by Tracy.X Via Flickr: Instagram//Tumblr//Portfolio//Redbubble

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HAUNTED; an alarkling mix (x)

His smile deepened and he cocked his head to the side. It almost hurt to see him this way. “Will you say it?” he asked.

I hesitated, feeling danger crowd in on me.

“Aleksander,” I whispered.

“We are alike,” he said, “as no one else is, as no one else will ever be.”

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our foremothers absorbed by empire like crystals intact in our guts the open pustule from which our plumes extend so we layer our voice with another voice so we wrap our song with another song

Lucas de Lima, from a suite of six poems published in the PEN poetry series 

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stop (looking for me)

2015

Jerrod La Rue

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makeup at hood by air s/s 16

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Do not weep. Do not wax indignant. Understand.

Baruch Spinoza

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inspired by Malu’s glorious edit.

And our heart’s gone And the timing’s never right But for now let’s get away On a Roman holiday