𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩.

The dark side of the moon has written poems about my nights. | #aesthetic. rp/parody. fake.

[𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩. @stellaesque]

The applause erupts like something breaking open. What a beautiful lie it is, so perfectly sung right back to me.

Palms collide, wild and feverish — rain striking a closed casket. It devours my silence before it can accuse me, and I am spared from feeling just for a moment. —

[Byronically @Darkk_Deco]

It’s quite erotic to discover someone’s true nature. Like suddenly catching a second scent from a flower.

[Mei. @SaturatedInk]

Some feelings linger, they keep on burning despite life, despite fate, despite ourselves. They bloom in the most deserted places in our hearts, they bloom even when one leaves them in the dark. Some feelings become a part of who we are, they’re in every breath we take, —

[ᅠ⟢ᅠ𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸ᅠ——ᅠ𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 .ᐟᅠ @lovedclaws]

you're a heap of flesh and guts and blood in a wax museum. the only real thing. sickeningly real. crimson and warm where the others are pale and cold. revoltingly red, nauseatingly alive. you're a child in a graveyard.

[𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩. @stellaesque]

@SaturatedInk Shining the brightest —— got their wishes in our hands.

[Moon @moondailys]

The Moon

[𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩. @stellaesque]

By my grace, I'm right on cue.
Make a scene, I'll make one too.

[𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩. @stellaesque]

This force of nature
follows me, follows me, constantly calling me.
The voice grows stranger
helplessly, helplessly hung up on history.

[𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩. @stellaesque]

https://t.co/qQ0PeI31B0

[ɱαddie 🎱 @djosphere]

i wanna bite him

[𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩. @stellaesque]

@atwistofate Wait until you hear about mine..

[WAV Archive @WAVArchive]

505 - Arctic Monkeys (2007)

[𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩. @stellaesque]

@atwistofate I knew it was that gif before I checked it. You..

[𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩. @stellaesque]

Charles Bukowski said, “Find what you love and let it kill you.” But mine... mine is taking its damned sweet time.

[𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩. @stellaesque]

The applause erupts like something breaking open. What a beautiful lie it is, so perfectly sung right back to me.

Palms collide, wild and feverish — rain striking a closed casket. It devours my silence before it can accuse me, and I am spared from feeling just for a moment. —

[𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘤 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩. @stellaesque]

always follows reminds me of what is missing.

On the table, I find a bottle of champagne and a card then, courtesy of Auriel. The paper carries a faint trace of perfume, almost mocking in its subtlety. “Let's hope we never meet again.” And to that, I would definitely toast. —