"

You have spider-leg fingers, fingers like a porcelain birdcage with no bird inside, fingers like fishing hooks, resting bones, nimble fingers of a blind man. Fingers made for reading brail, fingers made for holding forks, and holding mugs, and holding hands. You have hands like a demon, hands of a villain wanna-be hero, hands meant for fists and palm readings and spinning pottery. Army scouts are raised in your veins, wrapped around your wrists, marching pathways up to your forearm like a collected line of ants and I’ve never seen them scatter.

You have strong hands, clever hands, dangerous hands— and I was meant to hold them.

"
- Fx; 9.06.14 (via fauxspine)

(via fauxspine)

thehedgewitcheporium:

Early this morning I left home headed to my friends pasture to collect some cow bones and herbs. On the way to the pasture, I found this beautiful fox squirrel. It’s so sad because they are not very common compared to the grey squirrels.

"

I have as many sun-stars scattered on the tops of my shoulders as I did when I was a child; when I was busy reaching for the moon to be my best friend instead, because I thought the moon was an inspiration— we had things in common. The moon was different than the stars. The moon was just like me.

When I met you, the sun-stars were sticking to your skin, around your eyes and down your nose. You were blessed with the suns kiss from birth, and I was only blessed every summer when there were no shadows to sit beneath.

Sun-bearer; you wanted to burn someones life with your passion, with your heat, and I wanted to wait patiently— Your fire ate me up, burned me down to the coals at your feet, and I wished again that the moon was my best friend instead.

"
- Fx; maybe the moon, was never meant for me. 8.14.14 (via fauxspine)

(via fauxspine)