I don’t think all writers are sad, she said.
I think it’s the other way around—
all sad people write. Lang Leav (via observando)

(via jumpingintotherabbithole)

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I am too tired to fight.
My bones are growing heavy now,
my eyes are drifting shut.
My arms are too sore to hold the gun.
My fingers refuse to pull the trigger.
I want to be a soldier,
but I am too weary for this war. On giving up. (via poppyflowerpoetry)

(via jumpingintotherabbithole)

334 notes
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