dismantle my bones

"Thou art made whole: sin no more."

[glowplease]

[shakspeare]

i just took a bath in a starry night 💫

[xangeoudemonx]

Makeup at Elie Saab Spring 2014 Couture.

[anenlighteningellipsis]

– how dreamlike things are, how skinned of flesh and blood…

Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West [31st January 1927]  (via violentwavesofemotion)

[temporarymuseee]

one time I had a girlfriend and we took crazy rad photos

[morbidology]

Panjin Red Beach is located in the north east of Beijing and is appropriately called this due to the seaweed which turns to a bright red colour in Autumn. It has become known as the “home of the cranes” and is the home to 260 different types of birds, including the endangered Crown Canes and Blacak Beaked Gulls, and 399 different types of wild animals.

[morphball]

[memorygirls-deactivated20250816]

[pluvilis]

pale/plant

[poetsandwriters]

For starters, it was all an accident, you cut the right branch and a sort of light woke up underneath, and the inedible fruit grew dark and needy. Think crucial hanging. Think crayon orange. There is one low, leaning heart-shaped globe left and dearest, can you tell, I am trying to love you less.

Ada Limón, “Crush” (The New Yorker, 2009)

[davislam]

[geekgirlgrownup]

a list of very small things:

Thumbtacks. Baby teeth. Lady bugs. Cherry tomatoes. Retrieved bobby pins.

My hedgehog’s tolerance towards humans. 

A squeezed hand in passing. Chihuahua puppies. Backs of earrings. A hummed tune in an empty kitchen. 

Toothbrush bristles.

My boyfriend’s voice when he cries.

A held elevator. A shared sandwich. Moss. Tear drops. The earth.

The smell of fresh pine. Sleeping in. Forehead kisses. Root beer floats. Cartwheels. Goosebumps.

My father’s understanding of mental illness.

My deceased mother’s turtle necklace. Sitting graveside deep in conversation with a ghost. Knowing I have her hands, her eyes.

The way my smile keeps some small part of her alive.

The last heaves of sobbing. Wishbones. Forget-me-nots.

Time.

by julia allegretto

[bibliochor-deactivated20170422]

I’m sick of mortal kings. I long to see your light.

Rumi, excerpt of “The Agony and Ecstasy of Divine Discontent: The Moods of Rumi” (via hamartiaes)

[sassastix-blog]

[soul-vintage-deactivated2019031]

[plathisms-blog]

[…] but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh Upon the glass and listen for reply;

Edna St. Vincent Millay, from Selected Poems  (via lesgardenias)

[wetheurban]

Portuguese Youth Culture, Igor Pjörrt

Photographer and filmmaker Igor Pjörrt has a knack for utilizing color and light to intimately capture the world surrounding him - and he’s only 18. 

Instagram.com/WeTheUrban

Keep reading

[itslatingirl]