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Sometimes the sun feel so warm on my skin that I forget that I am human. 
I feel like I am more-so just part of the atmosphere, the air.
When I breathe it reminds me of how tangible I am, how solid.
Most of the time I feel like dust. 

Everything about her screams "wigwam, tepee." Everything about her screams "a mess."

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Following:

Likes:

• Quote via hideyourdisguise
  “When I run my hand across a page of poetry I do not want oil and onionskin, I do not want slick...”
  Quote via hideyourdisguise
• Photo via andthegoldrush
  

  Had my first visit to Syracuse this weekend, and loved every second of it.

  Photo via andthegoldrush
• Photo via barretta
  

  Wrong, wrong, wrong.

  Photo via barretta
• Photo via were-sohigh
  

  i need to look like this everyday

  Photo via were-sohigh

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