Wouldn’t we be quite the pair?—you with your bad heart, me with my bad head. Together, though, we might have something worthwhile.

a letter from Zelda Fitzgerald to her husband F. Scott Fitzgerald. (via tre-cherous)

(via fuckyeahfitzgerald)


I hate feelings and being confused and I should’ve never stopped drinking margaritas.

In other news, it was snowing.


Brand New- Moshi Moshi (x)


Brand New- Moshi Moshi (x)

(via matteosk890)

I love you like bloody knees
and broken skin and dirty
fingernails and shitty poetry
and the people who say
they do not believe in love
and disconnect and night
terrors and the sound nails
make on chalkboards and the
bodies of the women you
devour like ready meals and
that recurring dream we both
have about dying alone next to
a lit, scorching fire. I love you
like I love thinking about the
end of me. I love you like all
these things because all these
things are parts of me and the
things I cannot help but envy; I
love you because you are just
like me.

i tried to put it all into words and failed, Emma Bleker (via stolenwine)

(via brouhahamagazine)

An Endless List of Things I Love | Beautiful Reading Spaces

(via bloodybrilliantbooks)


I have no poetry for you, but I am alive & hope you are too.  


Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that - I love life.

The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via presentlyperusing)

(via daishannigans)

Beer Bottle Glass

You asked me if I was still writing
And my heart swelled with the weight of the question
Because I felt like, in that instant, you could see right through me.

You cannot pretend to read a book. Your eyes will give you away. So will your breathing. A person entranced by a book simply forgets to breathe. The house can catch alight and a reader deep in a book will not look up until the wallpaper is in flames.