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Fate i fan isterici ed ossessionati che mi spiano sui social se ignorati; quando avrete il coraggio di dirmi le cose in faccia fatemi un fischio. Ora levate le tende che la vostra puzza non è gradita :)
to the nights we won’t remember, with the people we won’t forget
Ma come fai a svestirla
nel letto
in cui mi ricoprivi
d’amore
- nonleggermi
“Aveva gli occhi color foglie, quelle foglie ormai secche e cadute in un freddo autunno. Non avevo mai visto occhi più belli dei suoi.”
— Tristezzemascherate
D’autunno mi piaci tu
che mi ricordi
la primavera
Poi ci sono notti come questa, dove vorresti chiamare qualcuno per parlarne, invece hai gli occhi sbarrati nel buio e stai le ore immobile, sperando solo di riaddormentarti.
I am sorry. Every letter that I write should start with this. I am sorry. I am sorry I took your daughter that day. I am sorry I fell in love. I am sorry I want her. Her flaws. Her mistakes. Her smiles and laughs and whispers and shakes and tears and kisses and jokes and lipstick smears and touches and future. All of it. I am sorry I have no regrets. I am sorry for unmade beds and pictures when the light spills all over her face. I am sorry for the darkness that I woke and the light I took from her. I am made of all the regrets and moments that I lived with her. For all the risks and promises we made under a starless sky last summer. I am sorry that I brought her back and drowned her in sorrow. You were her cage, I was the key to let her out. I am sorry I made her blood sing and her body hum with all my madness. I am sorry I marked her. I am sorry I let her do the same. I am sorry I made her fall in love. That had never been the plan.
A letter from Hades to Demeter r.m | published in Songbreaths / buy me a ko-fi
onestament
m agg rutt o cazz
M’ubriaco
di te
stanotte.
moodboard: hufflepuff
“i still remember you as a little girl who overwaters plants because she doesn’t know when to stop giving.“ — trista mateer
I hope you will always smile after kissing me. I hope you won’t lose that spark
I can’t breathe thinking about someone else touching you wanting you kissing you but what makes my heart collapse it’s imagining you loving them back
Lysander: *giving Castiel his phone*
Lysander: It's your girlfriend.
Castiel: Candy is NOT my girlfriend.
Castiel: *on the phone* Hi, babe.
I’m that kind of person who keeps letters and birthday cards, tickets from trains, parks or museums.