"Give me back every kiss I’ve ever whispered across the landscape of your skin. Give me back all of my tears your creased sheets have ever drank. Give me back the tender love with which I wrapped each word I ever offered you. Give me back every secret I ever let fall between us in the dark. They aren’t yours; I don’t mean them anymore."
"He thought her beautiful, believed her impeccably wise; dreamed of her, wrote poems to her, which ignoring the subject, she corrected in red ink."
You know, I had a friend that used to smoke. You know what he’s doing now? He’s dead. You think smoking makes you look cool? Let’s go dig him up now and see how cool he looks.
(Source: hennig, via ourlonelyheartsarewaiting)