I don’t want just words. If that’s all you have for me, you’d better go.
F. Scott Fitzgerald

I want to kiss you.
Like big, fat kisses. Or angels. Or stars.
Or something. I don’t know.
Love poems never make sense to me.
Poets say things like “Your teeth are flowers.”
or “Your eyes are miracles.” But you
aren’t miracles. Or flowers. You
are some sweet boy with a good smile
and a shaky heart. Come kiss me.
I’m in love with the miracle of your body
beside my body.
Love Poems, Clementine von Radics (via clementinevonradics)

No excellent soul is exempt from a mixture of madness.
Aristotle (via setbabiesonfire)

(via eelleinad)

Perfect boys only exist in book…shops.

In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.

(via 4mbivalent-deactivated20130424)