here is a personal series of images of people and flowers. i’ve been procrastinating finishing them for awhile.
enjoy them! if you like. mhm
Beach Fossils | “Plastic Flowers” | A Tribute To The Wake
“I think of you every day
I just can’t wait to send you plastic flowers
Today I’ll be far away
So I’ll talk to you on the telephone”
By myself, in the woods
just the sound of distant water,
and Erykah Badu,
just a scent, just a word,
the vibrations you’re sending me baby,
they’re not good.
just a scent, ooh just a smell
ooh just a feeling, oooh just I can’t help it now.
Creativity in my veins, the multiplicty
it speaks to me in my brain.
so has she been listening to me or
By myself, in the woods
just the sound of distant water,
and Erykah Badu,
just a scent, just a word,
the vibrations you’re sending me baby,
they’re not good.
just a scent, ooh just a smell
ooh just a feeling, oooh just I can’t help it now.
Creativity in my veins, the multiplicty
it speaks to me in my brain.
so has she been listening to me or
“Grow up with me.
Let’s run in fields and fear the dark together.
Fall of swings, and burn special things,
and both play outside in bad weather.Let’s eat badly.
Let’s watch adults drink wine and laugh at their idiocy.
Let’s sit in the back of the car,
making eye contact with strangers driving past,
making them uncomfortable.Not caring.
Not swearing.
Don’t fuck.Let’s both reclaim our superpowers;
the ones we all have and lose with our milk teeth.
The ability not to fear social awkwardness.
To panic when locked in the cellar;
still sure there’s something down there.
And while picking from pillows each feather,
let’s both stay away from the edge of the bed,
forcing us closer together.Let’s sit in public, with ice cream all over both our faces;
sticking our tongues out at passers by.
Let’s cry.
Let’s swim.
Let’s everything.Let’s not find it funny lest someone falls over.
Classical music is boring.
Poetry baffles us both;
there’s nothing that’s said is what’s meant.
Plays are long, tiresome, sullen, and filled;
with hours that could be spent rolling down hills,
and grazing our knees on cement.Let’s hear stories and both lose our innocence
Learn about parents and forgiveness,
death and morality,
kindness and art,
thus losing both of our innocent hearts,
but at least we won’t do it apart.Grow up with me. ”
lay nudes at my gravestone, not flowers. flowers will wither away, but a bomb ass booty is forever
What if clouds and lakes switched spots and every time you looked up you’d see waves being pulled by the moon and we’d wade through the clouds on a hot day. What if birds grew grass and the ground grew feathers. What if flowers were as tall as trees and trees as small as flowers.
I’ll have whatever he’s having.
What if clouds and lakes switched spots and every time you looked up you’d see waves being pulled by the moon and we’d wade through the clouds on a hot day. What if birds grew grass and the ground grew feathers. What if flowers were as tall as trees and trees as small as flowers.
