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Miranda Volta.

You said you loved me more than your morning coffee. And darling, you were wrong.
You said my lips tasted like sugar. But you always used Splenda, though.
You said the caffeine in my eyes was all that took to keep you awake.
I know you lied, darling. You always ordered decaf since the day we met.
You said you liked me because I was like coffee, strong, bitter and hot.
I guessed I was a fool for believing you, darling.
You never drank a black coffee without leaving half the cup.

mariethelibrarian:

booknerdjenny:

The second i step into a book store i seem to forget that I’m broke and that I have no money  

If its any consolation I do this too.

(via bookandwords)

crackheadparis:

Frida Kahlo & Salvador Dali.
poems-of-madness:

Feel Me, Feel Hell by Royla Asghar
recoveringstars:

drunknight:

INSTAGRAM

mostly black & white blog, that follows back c:
I didn’t know how to belong.
Longing? Yes.
Belonging? No.
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