If the sun were to explode,
you wouldn’t even know about it
for eight minutesAnd nothing in the world
gives me a heavier heart
than knowing I wouldn’t be able to reach you
before the world went dark.
Promise me this: when you finally leave me, you’ll
get creative. Tell me I was more disappointing than
your childhood. Send me your bloody ear with a letter
saying “I’ve got to Gogh. You’re making me crazy.”
I am hard to love but know this much: you are the
only thing I like doing more than writing poems.
— Clementine von Radics (via collidewithyoursky)
i love watching my innocent friends slowly transform into beautiful horny butterflies as we get older
I’m sorry that I’m both your umbrella and the rain.
— Tablo (via drapetomania)
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