March 2012
My body is a dead language and you pronounce each word perfectly.
– Unrequited Love Poem, Sierra DeMulderĀ (via piiss)
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February 2012
nakedlion:
The nights about to end, tell me baby, are we more than friends?
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I wonder if you even think about me. At all.
rrevolver:
i only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me