for my wild ones
stars in my eyes, hiking up griffith
hate slashes at my bones
I will never hate you for what you did
I watch with the burned eyes of God
when I see the blood I know I can speak
I saw her hair like the branch of a tree
listening to jazz out on the lawn
I see the others in you
The faces aren't the same,
but their stories all end tragically.
Isn't it strange how different
we are from all of our friends
birds singing in the sycamore trees
🍁🤍🍂 ₍₍I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers⁾⁾ 🍂🤍🍁
– L.M Montgomery
Inktober, Day 14- Roam
💜🩷🤍"A friendly visitor"🤍🩷💜
Inktober, Day 3- Boots
🤍🩷💜 "Witch's boots" 💜🩷🤍
I really wasn't feeling this one, made a moodboard//inspiration thingie for it too but it just didn't work out for me, I don't know~
In love with my inktober spread 💜🩷🤍