Straits Trading

The lights are dim;
early morning permeating
glass windows,
longingly casts itself onto
layers of paper that your palms
have pressed,
neatly, folded.
our bodies rake in the scent of
loneliness - 
I am alone in you,
brittle breaths
24 floors above departure.
Open my chest and let these rays 
encapsulate the rest of my day, 
shining bright. 

8:59 pm  •  19 August 2014  •  1 note
I wrote a poem about it, and then threw it away, because that’s the last thing I need right now: More words dedicated to people who will never dedicate a single thing to me.
― Thought Catalog  

(Source: koizoraa)

11:19 pm  •  15 July 2014  •  140,335 notes
Darling, all night
I have been flickering, off, on, off, on.
Sylvia Plath,Fever 103°.” from Ariel: The Restored Edition (via lifeinpoetry)
4:36 am  •  14 July 2014  •  2,684 notes