I want to be a canvas and your lips the brushes,

your fingers the chalk, your tongue the ink that stains my skin.

Paint me in all your colours, 

drench me in acrylics, watercolours, coal.

I will be your masterpiece,

placed in a museum, adored for centuries to come.

Your name will forever be etched in my substance. 



I can’t fucking breathe. Holy shit. This is basically my entire personality and interests in a video. I will never recover from this.



(Source: videohall, via falling---slowly)


Garden bed <3

I’m in a weird place in my life right now. A limbo between old and new. Where I am, I want to go and explore but at the same time I am okay with settling to familiar comforts. And currently I could almost give no fucks because I have prepared myself for so long to carry myself when I move on. Move on alone. And maybe support, as much good as it is, isn’t something I should care too much about if I’m determined to be on my own already. Whatevs