"It is a bad thing to have love and nowhere to put it."
Kate DiCamillo (via f0xfur)
(Source: horasmortas, via 12deer)
her eyes sparkled like those tin cans and you knew she was magnificent like a wave and a glass that changes with the light and a slight of your hand, did you see her today? if you saw her would you tell her you’ve seen me around? did you ever find the universe with your eyes squinched shut and the world under your feet and the weight of the light pushing you into the carpet? would anybody want to touch you if they saw you and fell over your aching soul? tell me about your names, how’d you feel when they glistened and broke as you shouted at the sun for cursing you with this beautiful life?
“‘Those who die young, they are cheated,’ she said. ‘Not cheated out of life, because life is a penance, but the young, they are cheated because they don’t know it’s coming. They don’t have time to move closer, to return home. When you know you’re going to die, you try to be near the bones of your own people. You don’t even think you have bones when you’re young, even when you break them, you don’t believe you have them. But when you’re old, they start reminding you they’re there. They start turning to dust on you, even as you’re walking here and there, going from place to place. And this is when you crave to be near the bones of your own people. My children never felt this. They had to look death in the face, even before they knew what it was. Just like you did, no?’”
The Farming of Bones, Edwidge Danticat
(Source: butterflieswhispertodeath, via letitgoandflyaway)
(Source: junkienet, via letitgoandflyaway)
Holy fuck seriously if you’re going to reblog any of my work, let it be this one, good god this piece took so long.
(via haiali)
Badass pipe where the eye turns red when you smoke out of it.
(Source: kudafi, via letitgoandflyaway)
(via letitgoandflyaway)
