Miss Spiritual Tramp of 1948
Alexis Gavrelis.18.Baltimore to New Orleans Well I've always thought it kind of rhymed... If I feel something, I write about it. If I write about it, then I feel it - it`s just that simple.

twelveoddmonths.tumblr.com

Read the Printed Word!

"Every introvert alive knows the exquisite pleasure of stepping from the clamor of a party into the bathroom and closing the door."

Sophia Dembling - The Introvert’s Way: Living a Quiet Life in a Noisy World (via dianekrugers)

This.

(via hotpeaceoftrash)

(Source: cumbered-cat, via hotpeaceoftrash)





"Do not try to be pretty. You weren’t meant to be pretty; you were meant to burn down the earth and graffiti the sky. Don’t let anyone ever simplify you to just ‘pretty’."
Things I Wish My Mother Had Taught Me | d.a.s. (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(via rachel-lynne)



"Your memory is of light, of smoke, of a still pool. Deep in your eyes the twilights burned. The dry leaves of autumn whirled in your soul."
Pablo Neruda (via azure-skies)


"I’m not a guy who ever needs to be seen in his underwear in a photo shoot, I just need to make sure that if someone bumps into me, I don’t fall over."


"holiness for you
was always in the quiet
of the world,
never in the flesh of another.

the blood you lick from your lips
must taste like freedom.
"
Emily Palermo, excerpt of Artemis (via camilla-macauley)

(via quite-insane)


"Oh you were beautiful, when your hair was a mess and your face a wreck. You were beautiful when you slept and when you wept. You were beautiful when you never thought you were, because I saw you in those moments, I saw all of you; and oh how I loved you."
T.B. LaBerge // Unwritten Letters to You (via tblaberge)

(via rachel-lynne)


paintdeath:


Keaton Henson

"Promote what you love instead of bashing what you hate."
TheDailyPositive.com (via thedailypozitive)

(via madelynnnnn)


"

You’re not doing well and finally I don’t have to
pretend to be so interested in your on going tragedy,

but

I’ll rob the bank that gave you the impression that
money is more fruitful than words, and
I’ll cut holes in the ozone if it means you have one less day of rain.
I’ll walk you to the hospital,
I’ll wait in a white room that reeks of hand sanitizer and latex for the results from the MRI scan that tries to
locate the malady that keeps your mind guessing, and
I want to write you a poem every day until my hand breaks
and assure you that you’ll find your place,
it’s just
the world has a funny way of
hiding spots fertile enough for
bodies like yours to grow roots.

and

I miss you like a dart hits the iris of a bullseye,
or a train ticket screams 4:30 at 4:47, I
wanted to tell you that it’s my birthday on Thursday
and I would have wanted you to
give me the gift of your guts on the floor, one last time,
to see if you still had it in you.

I hope our ghosts aren’t eating you alive.
If I’m to speak for myself, I’ll tell you that
the universe is twice as big as we think it is
and you’re the only one that made that idea
less devastating.

"
Small, Lucas Regazzi (via avvfvl)

(Source: 1000scientists, via quite-insane)



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