He’s the kind of guy I don’t want to say goodnight to
I dont like corduroy. I dont like bowties. I dont like kanye. I dont like politics.
I like black suits. I like clean ties. I like childish. I like being able to care for myself before I try to “create change” for others.
I will never change.
Paulo Coelho (via creatingaquietmind)
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?”
― Langston Hughes
Hello there, she whispered to the wind, and a grin crawled up her spine.
Are you well, she pondered touching the pane, and her fingertips danced with the glass.
Come back soon, she kissed, and the clouds changed, whispers left to the trees.
And she glanced into her looking glass, her eyes into his soul. She saw the parched dirt part and specks of gold catch flight as he exhaled. She knew her kiss had done its good, and dawn began to wake.