December 2011
22 posts
some kind of wonderful
where the birds are fragile things.
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i am a bad writer.
if i could choose words to fit my definitions, i’d hold my head low to silver platter decisions.
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false adoration in the form of "who knew?"
stars are not heavenly. they are not the pinnacle symbol of romanticism. sun gazing on the other hand, takes the light straight from your eyes. you have seen nothing better than that. no loophole. just what you see. a visual hurricane of everything you desire.
but who knew? my only wish was to do that to you.
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if kid drawings were real
i absolutely adore this concept. this is on a different level of genius.