the universe in tangible form
. Joined three years ago.
« Priya Elisabeth ∙ 17 ∙ INTP »
↳ I'm still upset about Achilles and Patroclus, and the Illiad was written nearly 3,000 years ago
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from the second that i was born it seems i had a loaded gun and then i shot, shot, shot a hole through everything i loved.
all of my friends were sporting fangs and at first i was scared but then i just smiled and put on my coat and thought, "finally something to leave the house for."
nothing lasts forever but this is gonna take me down. he's so tall and handsome as hell; he's so bad but he does it so well.
we stood as steady as the stars in the woods, so happy-hearted and the warmth rang true inside these bones.
be the catalyst i can’t ignore, you can have the marrow from my bone. wanna hide that, can't hide that - you're making my blood flow.
we are pieces of ancient earth, bits of sacred story soaked in intellect and dirt.
you could be my ice-age sugar, you lay me down and make me shiver.
i am eternally, devastatingly romantic, and i thought people would see it because ‘romantic’ doesn’t mean ‘sugary.’ it’s dark and tormented - the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you can’t attain.
if love is setting a place at the table for someone who is never coming home, i think i'll pass.
apparently our detective squad has gotten drunk, compromised the crime scene, and an officer has gotten stuck in a trash chute.
in dreams i have watched it spin, seen the violent crack of atoms where all light comes in.
i wanted to tell the book thief many things, about beauty and brutality. but what could i tell her about those things that she didn't already know?
tied to my bed, i was younger then, i had nothing to spend but time on you.
"you know when girls sleep with guys with weird things on their body, they tell their friends about it."
i was too young to understand the flowers sleeping in her hands.
of course ghosts are real, they hide inside your bones.
how terrible is it to be called beautiful, smart and strong but end up being alone every night.
</3 | the world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold; the curves of your lips rewrite history.
</3 | that bloody mary's lacking in tabasco; remember when you used to be a rascal?
darling i'm drunk and everything that i have loved has turned to stone, so pack your bags and come back home.
i keep pretending not to care but the winter scent in her hair compels my hands to do the things my heart wouldn't dare.
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