I’m a simple girl who makes picking out coffee creamer complicated. When I was a child I daydreamed about indigo kitchen tiles and wallpaper for my brick house of honeysuckle and lavender. I realized there are two types of people: the ones who drive with the windows down and the heater on high in the middle of winter and those who warm their hands by air vent at stoplights while the windows stay locked. I’m the person who rolls every damn window down and lets winter ride shotgun. I spend all of my money on candles and lemon heads. I like going grocery shopping alone, something about picking out bagels I never eat puts my mind at ease. I like how peaches make my lips sweetly sticky. I don’t know why people think it’s beautiful to be delicate. I’m a porcelain doll with glue kissed skin, I’m the freezer burn on your icecream. I don’t know how to be fragile and made of steel at the same time.
I don’t know how to be the sweet peach with a core so sure and solid//d.a.h (via whisperingbones)
It’s not always about sex, sometimes the best type of intimacy is where you just lay back, laugh together at the stupidest things, hold each other, and enjoy each others’ company.