spawners of midnight nostalgia and broken tea cups and patchwork brains that leak into your eyes then brand flowers on your cheeks that bloom into wings so maybe tonight you can fly across the continent and maybe tonight you can feel again.

coffee stained white lace and red lipstick marks on inner thighs and bones melting into muscle= breakfast of champions. 

beating the moon at her own game bc i hide more love in the pores of my skin than she does

dig through my sunflower heart but leave the seeds i need to mail them to my lover so he can plant them in his mouth