I have to clean the house this weekend. If I don’t, my spirit will die.
I once asked my father what happens when our hearts
stop beating, and he told me that as long
as what we love lives, so will we.Now summer’s breath wraps around my body,
and I can feel it in my bones
like the lingering spirit of an absent lover.So, perchance I exist between the divide
that none other than rain- the sun and moon’s tears
(Source: thinksquad, via stuff-that-irks-me)
(via velvetdavinci)
Thank you Chris, for emailing me this lovely picture on my government email…. ugh, the things the state auditors find funny