she has trees for veins

and salt water for blood. thesunrisesandsetsinherbones.tumblr.com

[celestinevibes]

[0ak-street]

[ella-eterea]

The free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it - basically because you feel good, very good, when you are near or with them.

Charles Bukowski (via ella-eterea)

[wnq-writers]

I miss you, but I don’t want you back.

vomitingwords  (via wnq-writers)

[artpornmagazine]

[derivings]

by Analogueblues 

[hippieseurope-deactivated202503]

We must be our own priest, our own guru. Who else on earth would know the darkest and most painful corners of our lives better than us? We must be our own angel, going in there with a lantern to light things up and to bind up the wounds with healing hands.

Sereno Sky, author of the Hippie novel “Lonely Traveller” (via hippieseurope)

[travelgurus]

Landscape of the rice fields at Thailand’s Suburbs by Sarrote Sakwong  Follow @travelgurus for the best Tumblr Images

[magic-of-eternity]

[aesza]

Adolph von Menzel

[r2--d2]

[shehastreesforveins]

Pluviophile

“It was the end of something”

she said

as she shuffled the cards

the click of each one

tapping against the wooden table

droplets race down green glass windows

i count the number of wins

cattails drooled

as they took their afternoon nap

in the nearby vacant lot 

and it started to come down even harder

flattening the grass in the city park

where the wildflowers grow in the summer

a car passed

in the nearby mist

the sound like sugar

sliding out of packages.

her lips moved

but nothing

came out

droplets race down green glass windows

i count the number of wins

she choked on the smell

of wet asphalt

she melted into the sidewalk chalk

and ran away into the gutter

a kaleidoscope of color

that night i sighed

multiple times

drowning my face in cold pillows

sinking

into various shades of blue

all I could see

was a picasso painting

of you and me

i awoke to the golden rays of a morning sun

and steam

rising from the blackened streets

the smell lingered in my bed sheets.

evaporation and condensation danced together in defeat

and finally I could find peace,

in the pitter patter of her sadness.

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no one is more beautiful than my dear Seattle,

her tears allow me to sleep

every once in awhile.

[colorgrl]

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

I have saved this afternoon for you.

T.S. Eliot, from 

The Complete Poems And Plays: 1909 - 1950; “Portrait of a Lady”

(via

yesdarlingido

)

 (via completesoblivion)

[fannylikes]

[allwereallyneedisweed]

+

[lumiant]

She just wants to feel something, and I don’t think that’s asking for too much.

Matty Healy (via lumiant)

[xsztuka]