sunday

Making jewelry.

damaged souls

Cigarette smoke floated up into the atmosphere as we underneath the milky way, talking about our past and future life's. Our hair became tangled in knots, just as it did the day before.

The sun reflects off our skin like tiny diamonds,
as we floated on that day.
Dreaming about huck fin and pretending to be the lost boys.

that first breathe of the salty sea is always the best

friday nights

Weeping willows surrounded the shore line as we dove head first into that blue body of water. Our legs became tangled in the mess of seaweed below, hoping not to get pulled under, we kept close to the rocky banks.

garibaldi will do me good. and i can't wait to find a new kissing place.