I bet there are sterling roses where you are.

I bet girls with pretty, slight wrists and small waists read you your fortune in tea leaves at hill-top parties; in houses facing the harbor. I bet they love you; the boy who likes old scarves and wears his hair long- the boy from the Midwest who photographs dead birds and homeless men and smokes strong cigarettes after every meal.

——

It isn’t fair that you got flowers and sailboats and pretty hands holding you while I got rotten wood, blood-speckled pillows, countless empty bottles and a hole in my stomach. I imagine that even now, as I’m walking in the winter rain, the sun is warm on your neck, and you’re still content to live that way; in a place where no one knows what you’ve done.

For whatever reason, I drive out to the abandoned baseball diamond where you shot yourself in the head. “To prove a point,” you said, knocking on the metal plate above your ear. You always liked the hospital: you liked all the nurse-ass and free Vicodin. Mostly, though, you liked the sound of blood and slow healing. You said it helped you think.



The risers are getting rusty and the grass is starting to claim second base. I wander around; toe the ground. I don’t know what I’m looking for: maybe the bullet shell- never mind that it’s probably in a little plastic baggie somewhere in the police station. I draw lines in the dirt with my shoe: “S” for shot, “H” for head.

They told you that you were lucky you’d survived.



You smiled and said the world wasn’t.

Lana Del Rey - Angels Forever, Forever Angels
62,193 plays

marina-del-cyrus:

inthestateofdreaming:

dangervvank:

Lana Del Rey | Angels Forever, Forever Angels

(Original 320kbps source file, not 128kbps SoundCloud leak)

hisandherquotes:

everything you love is here

hisandherquotes:

everything you love is here

It is with drunk pride
that she claims you-

with glass eyes-
with numb hands
and with a numb mouth
that only
speaks-

does not caress
does not journey
does not sacrifice.

Does not love.

It is because she sees
the shrine to
heartache
that you’ve built in the cavern
of your ribs,

just beneath your
heart

where you keep the
weakest
most beautiful parts of
yourself.

You chose to submit
because you do not want to choose
a life
alone.

You have yet to understand
that cutting your strings
means nothing but
your bravery-

nothing but
your decision to
be free.

iamrickyhoover:

morganolivianewton:

turqey:

goodforenothing:

Ohmygawd.

wow.

Love.

So fucking rad

iamrickyhoover:

morganolivianewton:

turqey:

goodforenothing:

Ohmygawd.

wow.

Love.

So fucking rad

rusticmeetsvintage:

secretlifeofbee on Instagram

rusticmeetsvintage:

secretlifeofbee on Instagram

you remind me of the babe

you remind me of the babe


Fleurs, 1860, Jean Benner

Fleurs, 1860, Jean Benner