etre moins volatile

mostly there, generally elsewhere.

She reminded me of the sea; the way she came dancing towards you, wild and beautiful, and just when she was almost close enough to touch she’d rush away again.

—Glenda Millard, A Small Free Kiss in the Dark (via breathe-of-midwinter)

(Source: seabois, via bydayiamnothingandbynightiami)

it’s never a perfect weekend without this. and of course, Jeffrey had to butt in :P

I’m the building and I’m feeling myself.

I’m the building and I’m feeling myself.

How can I sleep when your shoulder is far from comforting— when your entire body is begging me to touch you?

—Ayah E. (via steelstories)

(via mythandrists)

The sun inside of him
rages like wildfire
and he is
gold
gold
gold
and he is
scorching the skin of my heart,
yet still he pretends
that he is safe for me to love,
that his hands are gentle,
that his fingerprints won’t be
seared into the notches of my spine.

The sun inside of him
could set the kingdom ablaze;
he knows this, he does.

And he still asks me to love him,
to face the flame.

Find me in the ashes.

—Emily Palermo, Apollo (via starredsoul)

(via mythandrists)