It Felt Like Sunday After A Long Time.No Alarms,no Missed Breakfast,no Heading To The Subway In A Rush,no

“Some people are born with tornados in their lives, but constellations in their eyes. Other people are born with stars at their feet, but their souls are lost at sea.”

— (via demxneyes)

Simz Art on Instagram / Tumblr / Patreon

He’d never cared much for strawberries, but that summer her lips were so stained with the juices that they were all he tasted.

And he’d never had a favourite fruit, but two years later, a new girl is sat in front of him, laughing at his jokes.

“If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?” She asks playfully.

And he remembers how her hands traced the veins in his neck and made their way across his chest. He remembers her soft breathing and limbs draped across his shoulders.

“Strawberries.” He tells her. “I could live a life on nothing but strawberries.”

Long nights.Coffee stained books. Dark circles. Half full cups scattered around a dimly lit room. Heavy rain hitting off a window. Water filling the gutters. Tchaikovsky playing quietly on a record player. A neighboring houses window open wide enough to hear the soft violin chords. Shy smiles at books. Half closed eyes. Soft hums.

- Coffeemood

Wouldn’t be amazing if you could see all of your female ancestors at like age 25? All at once? Like you walk into a room and they’ll all in order there and you could talk with them all and see the story of your lineage? What were they doing at my age? What did they all look like? Would they be proud of me?

I'll write him in thousand different ways until my ink bleeds.

“I love that word. Forever. I love that forever doesn’t exist, but we have a word for it anyway, and use it all the time. It’s beautiful and doomed.”

— Viv Albertine (via quotemadness)

-bleeding hands

being in your early twenties is like [grocery shopping alone] [having instant noodles for dinner] [remembering random details about that one friend you haven't spoken to in five years] [feeling overwhelming guilt for every purchase that isn't strictly "necessary"] [having midday naps] [finding out through facebook that the girl who was mean to you in high school has a husband and a baby] [falling a little in love with every stranger on public transport] [pretending you're not afraid of being alone] [wondering when you'll feel like a fully realized person] [listening to bands you liked in middle school] [blinking and it's suddenly december] [failing to imagine yourself ten years from now] [feeling like you're running out of time]

You come home. I welcome you with a kiss. I tell you how much I miss you, you chuckle. We sit on the couch, both holding a glass of wine, watching our favorite movie together. We know exactly what is about to happen, but we still watch it anyway, I think it's safer that way. I look at you, I can't believe you're here. I tell you I love you, you love me too. I never felt so happy in my life.

The movie ends and it's time to go to bed. You wrap your arms around me, tell me goodnight but I am already asleep. You smile to yourself. You have everything you want. You would never ask for more. I would never ask for more.

Another day, we're out. I made sandwiches, your favorite, you say, even though they taste terrible. We start to count the stars, as a joke. How far they all feel. I love you. I don't want you to go.

A new year. You come home. I welcome you with a kiss, and a smile. A strange smile, I may be crying. I can't tell. I put our record on. I take your hand. We sway. We dance slowly. Every night when you come home. In front of the window, dim lights, our song playing.

I love you. Forever. You never leave.

Every night. People of this town tell the story of the girl who dances alone by the window. The world stopped spinning, and the clocks stopped working for her. The girl whom nobody knows, they refuse to. Some pity her. Some accuse her of madness. But no one ever tells her. No one ever tells her that he stopped coming home for a long time.