My body is a dead language and you pronounce each word perfectly.– Sierra DeMulder, Unrequited Love Poem (via thosehearts)
narla: im actually crying rn
beneathmytongue: I didn’t exist today. Instead I met a girl who sold her soul to forget where she came from. She told me she buried all her secrets in a glass jar, but she can’t remember where. She said the veins beneath her skin were a map to guide her home. She once tried to cut them out to put together the pieces, nothing fit. But that was her life now a series of roads that seem familiar...
Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to...– Sigmund Freud (via wehaveoneworld)