22nd Apr 201417:342,582 notes

i baked a cake with all the ingredients
of our time spent together
so i could eat it and absorb it
without ever having to forget it
with all the memories and memorization
of the graces between your elbow
the heart shaped lines 
in your arms, or the curve of your
pale backbone - the vicious
banter when intoxicated, the hilarious
movements when you tried to stumble
off my bed. i won’t forget,
i can’t forget, the happiness you gave me
the sadness you leant me -
it maddens me the insanity
of having to cut ties
that bound, wrapped around
our necks tighter than a noose -
it felt looser, when you were around.
i could apologize but you’d have none of it
your stubbornness is your strength,
your weakness and your motivation
just don’t believe the thoughts that creep
in your mind, the ones that tell you
that this was all for nothing, a waste - 
because the hours in bed or hours
in our own head spent lying or laying
or arguing or loving
were worth it 
in every way, 
for every second. 



S is for Street-Chic, Munich-Style
Wearing Tory’s Merrit top and Heidi pant Art Director and blogger Mija Flatau shows us how its done in her hometown of Munich. For Mija’s Insider’s Guide to Munich, click here.
Photographed by Florian Flatau

Message me if you’re a model/streetstyle blog :)
22nd Apr 201413:56439 notes

repetition is tragic
but im on a carousel
that sparkles brighter  
with bigger painted horses
on moonbeams higher
than my little brain could ever dream. 
you burst colour, 
a brain finally silenced after all these
years of being with the wrong one
i don’t have a headache, a migrane
a wish pressed on the corner of my lips
a kiss like wendy always said was there
but i could never find it, so i could
never give it to you - 

i’d fly off with you
if thats what i thought you needed
but i am a lonely silver soul
only half lovely, half 
dancing or singing or falling
heavily, slightly tilting twirling,
trying to find a place dancing
on the dark side of the luna
magnetic forced convulsing 
as soon as our fingertips touch.

craters or earthquakes
we are magic we form monumements
and the beat is repetitive
my brain is cyclical
like a carousel i will ride this
thought until all the colours blend
together and everything turns white
like complete happiness.

21st Apr 201400:3557,988 notes

● vintage & indie blog ●
21st Apr 201400:35180,418 notes

21st Apr 201400:35129 notes
21st Apr 201400:359,966 notes

darkness looms 
but i bloom underneath
the lack of UVA rays trying to crush
the seretonin draining from my brain.
i can’t help but wonder
why you would ever 
leave fate in my hands,
they’re too small to catch anything anyways -
if the beat breaks before morning
will my back break from the movements
that should have occurred because of your hands
or could have been bruised
upon my skin 
i am caught up in the faintest memory
of a breath or breathing or 
something to remind me that
darkness will loom and i will bloom
but i am a lotus, or some kind of
flower that bursts wild through
shit and stones like vines with petals
and i will tilt my face towards the moon
(fuck the sun)
just trying to hear luna cry to me
one last time

Opaque  by  andbamnan