“The lips part like silence set for alarm.”
David Bowie’s lips. 1979.
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I cant wait until I can roll over at 2 a.m. to find your lips instead of a text
(via crgasmic)
I want to see you. Your hair, your eyes, your lips, your hands, your smile and that body of yours.
So much (via unsaidhabits)
Can I just fast forward to the night I’m sitting on the kitchen floor with my beautiful fiancé eating take out and talking about planning our wedding
please
tell me which part of yourself
you hate the most
so I know exactly where to plant my lips
every time I see you
Think of me, falling.
Arms flailing, voice failing.
Think of me, crawling.
Hands aching, skin breaking.
Think of me, masquerading.
Mouth smiling, eyes trying.
Think of me, fading.
Feet sinking, soul shrinking.

