I am not Atlas. I will not bear your wrongs.

g.louise.s. (stories in ten words or less)

I want to fill every part of you, breathe the air from your lungs and leave my handprints on your soul. I want to give you more pleasure than you can bear.

Devil In Winter, by Lisa Kleypas  (via necrophag)

Dear Samson,
I put your hair
in a jar
by the pear tree near the well.
I been thinkin’
over what I done
and I still don’t think
God gave you
all that strength
for you to kill
my people.
Love—Delilah

“Love Letter,” Carole C. Gregory (via bitchkitty68)

 #and now you’re going to close the gates of hell #trapping all those poor bastards down there? (via stopcallingmebitch)

nothin—left:

             How can I sleep

                 if I don’t have d r e a m s

            I just have

               [ ｎｉｇｈｔｍａｒｅｓ ]

i kind of hate you a little bit,
but not as much as i would have
if i’d loved you before
so many things happen in a year
i grow ugly
i grow sad
i grow happy
sometimes, i bloom
but none of my petals hold your
name and i don’t want
to kiss your mouth
at all
this isn’t about me
this is about self
destruction
about how all the dreams
of you turned to ash
and other things i don’t
want to inhale
fire, only lesser
you don’t burn me anymore
and i no longer think about
your eyes in the dark
because so many things happen
in a year and me changing
is one of them
shedding skin and
evolving minds and
other things that mean
that i don’t like your heart
anymore
i used to think you were
a tidal wave, but
all you are is the
rain in the
winter that i
don’t fucking
want

k. mkhonza, “rain in the winter” (via florete)