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(Source: jadorejyon, via bottomshelfvodka)

foie:

me

foie:

me

(Source: sukijav, via bottomshelfvodka)

The stretch marks on my thigh

form a replica of the highway between Here and You.

If I promised not to cry

or talk

or breathe,

would you let me walk the hundred mile journey

in time to watch your eyes flutter awake tomorrow in the morning sun

just once more?

*1

(Source: weirdinternet)

*2

(Source: weirdinternet)

*3

My favorite part about being a woman living in a city:

Every time I walk home alone at night, my brain automatically labels other people I see on the street as “witnesses”