"I always get odd bouts of nostalgia
It comes in the form of yellow leaves and five o’clock afternoons and the long walk from your house to mine
The last time I saw you we sat on the fire escape at your mother’s apartment and our only view was the neighbor’s window across the street coming in and out of view as the laundry your mother hung on the line dried and flew wild off the clothespin
You always used to say the only people that survived in this world were either incredibly tough or incredibly soft and I wondered how you made it this long, being both
We ate tortilla’s your grandmother made as we sat on the concrete steps on Verano street and you told me the first things you thought about when you woke up were your morning cigarette and me
It was as if you always placed me second because you wanted to make sure you were addicted to something else other than someone who had the potential to leave, someone who couldn’t be shoved in your back pocket for comfort like your Marlboro’s
I came to your apartment last night and banged on the door your mother had painted red because her grandmother told her that color had the power to protect
I guess she was right thinking you needed protecting from a girl with scraped knees and wild red hair and who couldn’t roll her R’s
I saw you sitting on the fire escape as I started to leave and I told myself you saw me as I walked away and I hope you heard me whispering from down the street that I always have, I still do, and I always will love your soft and consuming fire"
- For The Boy Who Lived and Loved on Verano Street (via phantomlimbwritings)
I would like to eat yummy peaches with you naked in a warm bath full of flower petals.
It would be a shame to let this month pass without posting this song.
It’s one of the few Isakov songs that actually took some time to grow on me, but I’ve been particularly enjoying it now that it’s more ‘relevant.’
—Netflix would be by far the best dating site. “Here are 9 other singles in your area who have also watched Breaking Bad for 12 straight hours”
i found myself playing the song we used to dance to in my bedroom only this time the song was louder than the sound of my heartbeat
"Confidence is being able to say “Fuck you, I’m the shit” without opening your mouth, say it with your walk, with your smile, say it with your entire being."
- Tati-Ana Mercedes (via survivalistinstinct)
(Source: bi-bittch, via survivalistinstinct)
i wanna raise my daughters to not text back