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And if I may just take your breath away
I don’t mind if there’s not much to say
Sometimes the silence guides our minds to
So move to a place so far away

The goosebumps start to raise
The minute that my left hand meets your waist

— The Neighbourhood
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The nights are long and the depth of the ache cannot be measured. The north winds have returned, leaving behind little trace of summer. I often wake to a world of delicate frost. You are not here, and the daytime clouds curtain the sky just enough to hush the light?the emptiness is complete

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milkstudios:

Oh, the lips
Photo by Masha Maltsava.
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bentrovatoprints:


The Last World by Luc Braquet
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at-en:

© Erin Nelson 2012
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at-en:

© Erin Nelson 2012
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at-en:

© Erin Nelson 2012
103 ♥
at-en:

© Erin Nelson 2012
7 ♥
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worldofgrunge:

SCREAMING CHEETAHS- Katie Eary
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