Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.
Kait Rokowski (via wildfairy)
Anonymous asked:
Born in BC; living is Saskatchewan
‘Do you fall in love often?’
Yes often. With a view, with a book, with a dog, a cat, with numbers, with friends, with complete strangers, with nothing at all.