music&manuscripts.

My rhymes and records, they don't get played. Because my records and rhymes, they don't get made.
When will our hearts be free? Because our ribs are cages.
(Where do I belong when everything I’ve loved has come and gone?)

When will our hearts be free? Because our ribs are cages.

(Where do I belong when everything I’ve loved has come and gone?)

I am not in love with you
in metaphors or eyelashes
or crisp sheets against pale
skin, I am in love with you
in bloody noses and dirty
clothes and rough hands and
spotted complexions.

I am in love with you in
the way your breath smells
before you brush your teeth
in the morning and the red
blotches that form on your
face when you’ve gotten too
much sun, a blush stolen
straight from the sky.

There is nothing beautiful
about ignoring the whole
of the person you love, and
so we choose to love one
another in the dirt, in the
parts of us too desolate
for one person to approach
alone.

loving you is no beautiful promise that i will always be what you need, Emma Bleker (via stolenwine)

(via paolavallado)

bklynisburning:

Yep.

(Source: gymleaderkyle, via vangofett)