March 2012
“When he told her
that her voice sounded like earl grey tea
and her laugh like manic pencil scratches;
that he always drew out the pattern of her freckles on restaurant napkins;
that she was the princess
he told his little sister bedtime stories about;
that her eyelashes looked pretty when she cried;
his voice trembled like a violin string
and she cracked like the spine of a book.” —Unknown (via sailacrossthe-sun)
that her voice sounded like earl grey tea
and her laugh like manic pencil scratches;
that he always drew out the pattern of her freckles on restaurant napkins;
that she was the princess
he told his little sister bedtime stories about;
that her eyelashes looked pretty when she cried;
his voice trembled like a violin string
and she cracked like the spine of a book.” —Unknown (via sailacrossthe-sun)
“Ma ne volim je, nimalo. Nije mi čak ni draga… Samo pamtim svaki centimetar njenog savršenog tijela. I znam da joj oči promijene boju kad se ljuti. I znam kako izazvati onaj osmijeh s rupicom u obrazu. Znam njen hod, prepoznam ga među hiljadu drugih. I nepovratno memorisan broj njenog telefona u mojoj glavi. Pa se noćima borim sa sobom da je ne pozovem. I ponekad se uhvatim u kajanju, što je nisam zadržao… Samo to, a ne volim je, nimalo…”
—(via lovewonderland)
