sorry, MOM. cant hear you over my LOUD GOTH MUSIC and GOTH ACCESSORIES. too many CRUCIFIXES in my EARS
(via goth-child1999)
“she… longs to run herself aground in a sad secret death. Is it a god inside you, girl?”— Euripides, from Hippolytos, Grief Lessons: Four Plays tr. Anne Carson
(Source: lifeinpoetry, via russiacore)
me whenever i have a cold: i can’t remember the last time i could breathe out of my left nostril…it must have been 14 years ago when i was a child on the farm..life was simpler back then….. i remember the sound of the creek over by that big rock.. when papa came home from the town bearing fresh yeast for ma to make bread with, i breathed in the crisp fall air through both nostrils before heading into the kitchen, where i could smell all of our spices
(via thebootydiaries)
