"There’s a build up of nothingness in your chest, and you just have to clench at it with your weary hands, because not even your ribcage can keep what’s pounding through it and seeping throughout your body."
jenn satsune (via psych-facts)
I do not use the word home lightly.
So when I sigh it into the crook of your neck,
Believe that your spine is a timber frame,
Your kiss a welcome mat,
And your enveloping arms my front door"