lousy with desire
Ask me anything Panacevm
fear is not my mother tongue. i do not speak it /
it speaks me.

  • darkesttrip:

    “Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”

    — Anaïs Nin

    2421 Notes
  • "Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling,"
    • – Walt Whitman, ‘Give Me the Splendid Silent Sun’ from the section ‘Drum-Taps’ in Leaves of Grass (via wordwhile)
    41 Notes
  • "Her winter-beheaded daisies, marrowless, gaunt,"
    • – Sylvia Plath, excerpt from “The Snowman on the Moor”  (via paper-fairy)

    (via paper-fairy)

    551 Notes
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