Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.
Kait Rokowski (via girlchoking)
(Source: writingsforwinter, via slim-and-svelte)
(Source: occupt, via ykcierlbly)
You have witchcraft in your lips.
William Shakespeare, Henry V (via hefuckin)
(Source: dreamsinthyme, via slim-and-svelte)