Summertime, the taste of saint secrets a perfume mist. Console the mind, I take it in with lips of pink I kiss.

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I don’t believe in them. I want to go to the light – I don’t need bags of dark weighing me back down to earth. I’m not into my soul being a haunty spook stuck in Nowheresville. I want a clean slate. I want to transmigrate into my next adventure. Brody Dalle on having regrets 
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davegrohlslongjohns:

skellytin:

me squirting all over anthony

YEEES!!!