poppysmick.

www.twitter.com/wtfashionblog
euo:

“Feelings so wild and so strong. Feelings we never thought were possible before. Don’t ever promise to adore me all your life. Let’s not make promises like that knowing me knowing you. Let’s keep the feeling that this love of ours, this love of ours, will be short and sweet.”
Pierrot le Fou (1965) dir. Jean-Luc Godard

euo:

Feelings so wild and so strong. Feelings we never thought were possible before. Don’t ever promise to adore me all your life. Let’s not make promises like that knowing me knowing you. Let’s keep the feeling that this love of ours, this love of ours, will be short and sweet.”

Pierrot le Fou (1965) dir. Jean-Luc Godard

(via girlinlondon)

She always loved the sea, but that never explained
why I saw shipwrecks in her smile. She was the type
of girl that slipped out of your fingers like sand,
especially when you tried to hold on too tight, she
didn’t like being too close. She’d crash into men like
the waves crashed into rocks, she thought she would
find herself in them but she never did. I told her she
already had something. I told her that the emotions
she held inside her were gifts to be written and given,
but instead she swallowed pills that took them away.
She asked me if I believed in heaven and I said yes,
and followed it with a don’t go without me. She shook
away the smile on her face and said one day she’d meet
me between the sea and the sun, I didn’t understand
what the hell she meant so I just said okay. It wasn’t
until the next day I called her in the morning and got no
answer, no answer, no answer.
The last time I caught a glimpse of her was when I set
her ashes free, between the sun and the sea. Where
she wanted to be.

i.c. // to the ones who lost
their best friend  (via delicatepoetry)

(via coffeestainsonyoursheets)

I roll your name around my tongue
and the hot, bitter tang of you
floods my mouth

You taste of bleary eyed nights
and Marlboro Lights
smoked fiercely, biting down hard on the butt

of Southern Comfort
vomited into the backseat of a car
and venomous insults
screamed at the top of our lungs
that we’d never be able to take back

of clumsy sex in your parent’s bed
behind your boyfriend’s back
and Sunday morning splitting headaches
trying to recall the details
of the night before

Somewhere,
on this godforsaken earth
there must be a mint
strong enough
to erase your name
from my lips

Max Mundan, Your Name, It Tastes Like Cigarettes and Shame

© David Rutter 2014

Follow me on twitter @dmr226

(via maxmundan)

(via coffeestainedheart)

You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart.

—Franz Kafka (via girlinlondon)

…To sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whisky, and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested…

Hunter S. Thompson  (via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: goodreads.com, via thatkindofwoman)