November 2009
2 posts
something i wrote on my wrist today
mypeterpancomplex:
frogsandcrowns:
The wind was so raw i felt it rush right through my body as if i was a ghost. The empty tree branches made criss-cross patterns on the sky like scars. The mist felt like cold fingers on my hands.
“I don’t want to go to heaven”
“What?”
She has her face to the wind, her hair in tangles. Her face is smudged with rain and something that might be tears. She’s...
“I have learned now that while those who speak about one’s miseries usually hurt,...”
– C.S. Lewis (via misswallflower) (via midnightair) (via brokenmachine)