garden
eating rose jam in the backseat of ur car ©2016, ina
and in him doth lie my death and my life. a collection of poetry featuring art by gustav klimt.
careworn and smiling with a crooked grin, adoration slept in the wrinkles beside his eyes as he observed the mosaic beauty. she held his callused palm in hers and whispered to the moon; "tonight, we're monsters." romanticism isn't always beautiful.
THEY SAY THE RICH LEAVE THE POOR TO BURN, but sometimes having it all is really the malicious way of the universe tearing you apart, cell by cell, atom by atom. It takes the little things first, so that you only feel a nagging sensation, but then it's in chunks and chunks and chunks until - © 2017, michelle