four june
one : thirteen a.m.

"there is a fire-peach canvas for your mind to splatter. i swear to you, close your eyes and point to yourself. please don't think for one second you are flawed. what you are is what you are is what you are is what is what is, is what. (an attachment : is what is what is beautiful.) and right now, i wish i had your fingertips."




listen : pixies (in my head); coheed and cambria