“ I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday.
“ There will come a time when the night air
won’t send chills down my spine
for it will no longer whisper your name.

I will stop telling stories about you,
for the moon has grew tired of hearing them
and weariness is an awful thing to feel.

The stars would appear
brighter than your eyes,
and I would hear lullabies again.

The winds would be warm,
the seas won’t crash waves,
and I will no longer drown.

mylittleghoulie:

October feels like the home sweet home of all the months. The moment the calendar reaches October 1st I get this warm and cozy feeling that lasts for 31 glorious days. I absolutely love it.

(via laurenraelle)

baileysays:

tbh don’t trust anyone who doesn’t like making out

Seriously though

(via winona-rydher)

spring: black clothes
summer: black clothes
autumn: black clothes
winter: black clothes

bitterbettiee:

amortizing:

"If you’re 18 why do you still ask your parents for permission" you’re not Hispanic you don’t understand the struggle

Omfg

(via dissonancemindwave)

“ I think of you so often you have no idea.