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Red Lipsby =Ilayda-Arts
janeby *mediocre-matt
2669-BIn the early hours, when he is still asleep, she begins counting the tiny black and white tiles plastered to the ceiling of their flat. Some are chipped, some are covered by a layer of dust, and some are not tiles at all, but cockroaches in disguise. By 143 he has stretched his arms and kissed her neck, by 206 he has tied his shoes and lit a cigarette, and by 262 he's always gone. She knows that the smell of coffee will dissipate by 329 and that if she can bother getting out of bed to call her worried mom for once, or even just go to the damn bathroom, he will be back by 2338.2669-B
If she counts slowly.
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So
by ~Dibujando
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- Interests: Art/Fashion
- Favourite band or musician: Copeland
- Favourite genre of music: Indie
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many thanks for the
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fotografia reklamowa - Gdynia
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bo dziewczynka nie jest wcale kim na pozór się wydaje
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Sometimes, she watches the birds in the skies
and she'd like nothing more than for feathers
to erupt from her back so her feet could lift off
the ground just like theirs
you added me but i don't really use my ochispiret account right now
my new one is:
[link] so add that?
thankyou
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I want a fairytale ending with a pumpkin and a prince.
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"Though strong, I’m lonely. Though stubborn, I’m easily moved to tears."
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