made to crack under the heat and with time, pristine only when no one pays attention to you; you’ll lose your lustre. you are a book that could have been read, yet you elect to be a scrap collection of someone else’s fond memories―shelved under expendable half-price smut.
you’re obvious and it’s sad, but anyone could have told you that.
[video]
neiro: (via thechocolatebrigade)
e.e cummings