love ya

[adarra]

henry river mill village

[lionfloss]

by rosie_brock

[adarra]

[abandonedography]

Detroit’s Mark Twain Library was closed in 1996 for renovations and never reopened

Photo by Brandon Davis

[heartcountry]

i love when poetry does that (makes every moment of my life stack on top of one another and sit on my heart until i am sure every cell in my body remembers it is alive again)

[slimetony]

Not to be vague but not again please

[expressions-of-nature]

Fontainebleau State Park, Louisiana by Lana Gramlich

[theorangepdf]

for old times sake is actually such a heartbreaking and beautiful sentiment. let’s do it for the love that used to be here!! it is reason enough!!

[adarra]

cowboy take me away

[adarra]

haunted

with every step i take,

i feel you behind me;

every mirror i pass

shows your face inside my own,

and i wonder if this haunting

came at my own will,

if i wished you back to me

- adarra lyn

[adarra]

and if that

is such a bad thing after all

[welcome-totherealworld-blog]

[satanasa]

i loved her

[sylviaplathquotes]

“There is something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, especially when you are the only extra person in the room. It’s like watching Paris from an express caboose heading in the opposite direction–every second the city gets smaller and smaller, only you feel it’s really you getting smaller and smaller and lonelier and lonelier, rushing away from all those lights and excitement at about a million miles an hour.” - Sylvia Plath

[noterriblewoman-deactivated2023]

Are you a flirt?

i’m insane

[sylviaplathquotes]

“I guess I should have reacted the way most of the other girls were, but I couldn’t get myself to react. I felt very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.” - Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

[adarra]

hiking in december

[galaxyaurora-deactivated2016072]

[sylviaplathquotes]

“Here I am, a bundle of past recollections and future dreams, knotted up in a reasonably attractive bundle of flesh. I remember what this flesh has gone through; I dream of what it may go through.” - Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath