Vita Sackville-West, from a letter to Virginia Woolf (January 21, 1926)
“As June runs into warm July I think of little else but you.”
— Wendy Cope, excerpt of “From June to December” (A Summer Villanelle)
i love you green. i love you forests. i love you smell of damp earth. i love you feeling before the storm breaks. i love you moss. i love you rivers. i love you streams. i love you thunderstorms. i love you sunlight shining through leaves.
people aren't willing to have open and honest discussions about sex horror sex bat sex horror sex vampire sex bat horror vampire sex. there's a stigma.
stigma fangs in your neck LMAO
The love I have for these shorts is unreal
reblog if you’re a rotting corpse
long overdue for a scream in the woods
i literally have to romanticize almost everything or else i get sad
Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles
Franz Kafka // Unknown
the moon loves you even on your bad days