magicconchshell:

imagine if you went to go see a horror movie but it was just a slide show of your middle school selfies for an hour

hereunoia:

If the boy who draws

let’s you look over his shoulder.

If the poet

smiles

and shows you her words.

If the girl who sings for the shower only,

hums a song

in front of you.

Know that you’re no longer a person

but the air

and dust

that fills their lungs.

When the world perishes,

and all things cease to exist,

you’ll remain inside an ink stain,

a paint brush,

a song.

— Alaska Gold

shadesilverwing:

“_____ liked your post”

“_____ reblogged your post”

nippled:

*throws flower petals at you* be my friend