i am now devoured by flowers.

"i am now devoured by flowers."
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paperdollhearts: I prefer pressing flowers after they are gone…the last filaments of flushed radiance and stilted gasps meandering into the starry beyond. Perhaps their beauty isn’t as preserved in the two dimensional, paper thin variations of their former selves; perhaps the colours have faded and the petals curl at the tips. I prefer it this way however for when I look at their blissful likenesses filling the pages of my diary, I can know that these flowers lived a lovely life; one that was not curtailed by my own hand…….. Sometimes I’m overly sentimental like this. 
23596"She’s never where she is,” I said. “She’s only inside her head."

— White Oleander (via nowtheresthatfearagain)

(Source: bobcharley, via sour-cherry)
psbeatles: Stu and Astrid.  
2"La poesía, por poco que uno quiera profundizar en sí mismo, interrogar a su alma, avivar sus recuerdos, su entusiasmo, no tiene otro fin sino ella misma; no puede tener otro, y ningún poema será tan grande, tan noble, tan verdaderamente digno del nombre poema, como el que haya sido escrito por el solo placer de escribir un poema."

— Baudelaire (via nomadpoetry)
calorycelos: Power, Corruption & Lies.
123"Flowers toss their heads outside the window. I see wild birds, and impulses wilder than the wildest birds strike from my wild heart. My eyes are wild; my lips tight pressed. The bird flies; the flower dances; but I hear always the sullen thud of the waves; and the chained beast stamps on the beach. It stamps and stamps."

— Virginia Woolf, The Waves
(via seabois)

(via devagarzinhofloremflor)
22:22

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