(Source: elmh)
(Source: elmh)
(Source: blessedwildapplegirl)
Bones, bones, brittle little bones. It’s not the milk you seek, it’s the sun you need.
—Don’t Call Me Whitney, Bobby - Islands
We met when we were almost young
Deep in the green lilac park.
You held onto me like I was a crucifix,
As we went kneeling through the dark.
—Leonard Cohen- ‘So long Marianne’
Ask a Question Archive RSS Mobile
Centennial Theme by One by Four Studio. Powered by Tumblr.