ciindyyy

theflightout:

Tonight we float across an empty sky. Cold air, pins and needles prick our lungs. There is something melancholy about looking at the stars sometimes. I turn somersaults in the wind and lose my breath and you keep your distance. Something about me scares you. So you only watch. But here’s the thing you don’t realise. We are not permanent and you must do more than exist to live.