You are a little soul carrying around a corpse.
— Epictetus (via whimsicalele)
Reblogged from whimsicalele
men who hung died, their semen dripped into the soil bellow and there would grow mandrake, dreaming to be human. forever muted in their plant nature.
this is just fairy saddles on your eye skin
You are a little soul carrying around a corpse.
— Epictetus (via whimsicalele)
Reblogged from whimsicalele