coleton - haynes

im sophia and i have a secret crush on calum hood

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“I never stopped loving you. Not even for a second. Even when I hated you.”

Charles Sheehan-Miles, Just Remember to Breathe (via perfect)

“Strike a match down my spine to remind me of how it was once woven between your teeth.”

Amanda Oaks (via 5000letters)

“I’m a sucker for somebody who’s just classically good looking, right? I always end up just staring at them”

Matty Healy (via healydanes)

“For you, I’d steal the stars.”

A Six Word Poem ( on how you deserve galaxies)

“Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself.”

Anne Sexton, “You, Doctor Martin,” from The Complete Poems (via mirroir)

“Our eyes are full of terrible confessions.”

Anne Sexton, from The Black Art (via violentwavesofemotion)

“We batter this planet as if we have someplace else to go.”

Ann Druyan, The Varieties of Scientific Experience: A Personal View of the Search for God (via thedragoninmygarage)

“The boys, they call me Lolita.
They come to me with their dark hair and beautiful cheekbones.
They say ‘Lolita, baby. C’mon, hike that skirt up. Yeah, show me those stockings.’
‘Lolita, you kill me. Turn around sweetheart.’
‘Lolita, go and grab me a beer. You’re the best chaser I’ve ever had hunny, you taste like cherry soda straight from the shop.’
They know everything of my shaky, wandering hands, peppermint lips and olive skin
but nothing of my anxious soul, my love for 7-up, my eyes that cry salt.
The priest, the one with sins falling from his eyelashes, he tells me girls like me are not meant to be loved. We are candy, made to be devoured.
I go home and I put on a long t-shirt and I paint.
I paint the boys’ dirty hands, their cigarette lips and eager but dying eyes.
I do not tell them I make them into art; I don’t want to scare them away.
Girls like me, we have blood draining out our eyes. Desire hides in the crevices of our palms,
to us love is the color black.”

Abbie Nielsen, For the Girls Who Have Been Used (viapassionandcoffeestains)

“To travel is to live.”

Hans Christian Andersen (via aestheticintrovert)

“I care so much I’m sick.”

Ray BradburyFahrenheit 451 (via paintdeath)

“You deserve good things, and I want to be one of them.”

Ellen Hopkins  (via blairwitchwaldorf)

“I’m really afraid to feel happy because it never lasts.”

 Andy Warhol (via felicefawn)

“Writing isn’t the same as speaking, I struggle with conversation.”

Alex Turner (via perfect)

“I wonder how many times you’ve compared me to her.”

(Ten word story)

1. I don’t want to be begged. I am turned on by a steady affection, an unwavering rationality. I want you to do my taxes please memorize my social security number darling

2. Be careful be careful be careful I am sharp in unexpected places I will remember your mother’s name and kiss your earlobe and drizzle fingers down your spine but I will also spit poison in your mouth, set fire to your childhood. I will erase you from my mind, snubbed out like a match in the wind but I will still sometimes send you pretty pictures of me and smile at the thought of you wondering why, furrowing a brow and remembering the night I told you you were special. did my eyes shimmer with sarcasm then? did my lips taste like spite?

3. I want to be touched oh do I want to be touched I will curl beneath your fingers, arch and writhe like burning twigs deep in the embers I will shrink beneath you I will let myself revel in feeling small if only for a moment. I will construct castles on your skin for touching me like that, for a moment I will see you like a world unto itself for a moment with your fingers on my stomach you will be invincible

4. I am more in love with myself than I am with you. I want to hear myself gasp I want you to keep noise to a minimum.

5. I am not smooth. I have a scar on my knee from the time I fell down the stairs to impress my father I have a scar on my back from the time my skin tried to kill me and had to be cut out (did it scream? make a last ditch attempt?) I have a scar on my lip from something that must have been stressful I have a scar I have a scar I have a scar… I have stretch marks on my thighs from when they grew thick like tree trunks to keep me up and fuzz running down my stomach reminding me that I am warm blooded. I have freckles and divots, dents and bruises, I am not smooth but I am warm and sometimes I can feel like home

6. I am like a newborn baby feeling with my mouth if you don’t stop me I may swallow you whole tasting, tasting, tasting. I like when you taste like human, salty with nervousness and desire.

7. I am not meek I am not timid I will push you down I will bite you and bruise you and you will only be allowed to cradle me, delicate, delicate

8. I need you to want me or I am not interested. I need you coiled up under your skin like a cobra on the attack I need your fingers itching, twitching for the curve of my hips I need you to feel like your chest is swelling, like your lips will whither up and die if they don’t land on my skin. I need your eyes heavy, heavy, heavy with want I need you gravitating towards me. Then I will look at you.

9. Inside I am softer. Inside I am poems and heavy summer rain and the time I tried to rescue a baby bird who fell from a tree outside my dirty brownstone in Brooklyn. If you are good enough you can see a little of that. If you are sweet enough you can swing open the doors. If you are broken enough I will cup you in my hands like that little bird and bring you inside and try to feed you mashed up fruit maybe this time I won’t end up burying you in my tiny backyard under fake grass with a styrofoam headstone, “lightening, taken from us too soon”

9 things to know before you crawl into my bed (via porn4smartgirls)