sits in windows

the-hanging-garden:

My featherbed is deep and soft 
And there I’ll lay you down
I’ll dress you all in yellow silk
And on your head a crown
For you shall be my lady love
And I shall be your lord
I’ll always keep you warm and safe
And guard you with my sword.

And how she smiled and how she laughed
The maiden of the tree
She spun away and said to him
No featherbed for me
I’ll wear a gown of golden leaves,
And bind my hair with grass
But you can be my forest love
And me your forest lass.

(Source: cleganeskeep)

every day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, in the Spring, can be a 6-pack of beer (excluding Sundays) and 5 lbs. of boiled, seasoned crawfish. As that season draws to a close, moment of silence…

sunkern:

sarahita:

sunkern:

boy, are u dutch because amsterdamn

This makes no sense. Amsterdam is in Germany.

I’m in Amsterdam right now and lemme fuckin tell u it is not in germany

Damn I wish I was in Amster—

When I take my girl to the swimming party
I set her down among the boys. They tower and
bristle, she stands there smooth and sleek,
her math scores unfolding in the air around her.
They will strip to their suits, her body hard and
indivisible as a prime number,
they’ll plunge in the deep end, she’ll subtract
her height from ten feet, divide it into
hundreds of gallons of water, the numbers
bouncing in her mind like molecules of chlorine
in the bright blue pool. When they climb out,
her ponytail will hang its pencil lead
down her back, her narrow silk suit
with hamburgers and french fries printed on it
will glisten in the brilliant air, and they will
see her sweet face, solemn and
sealed, a factor of one, and she will
see their eyes, two each,
their legs, two each, and the curves of their sexes,
one each, and in her head she’ll be doing her
sparkle and fall to the power of a thousand from her body.
— Sharon Olds, 1983

badkidsjokes:

knock knock
who there?
hungry
hungry who
I´m hungry so give me my stupid food