babyheroin:

The mundanity of my life here is sort of killing me slowly from the inside. But the thought of choosing somewhere to move to seems sort of impossible. I have nothing for me anywhere else and the options are infinite.

“we travel, some of us forever, to seek other state, other lives, other souls.” (anais nin)

whoartgos:

the ends of the earth are
littered with the men you’ve
thrown away

frail things, begging for night
as if it were medicine

i sat, spinning my thumbs
counting blades of grass
wondering if they ever play at
knives