I am sick of the swelter. My body wants to be as cold as my thoughts. If only to remember what the color orange smelled like before we started eating fruit that doesn’t belong to us. The only heat I long for is the kind that comes rushing up your chest when your hands are tangled with Autumn wet.

Love this.

sailaway-fromthesafeharbor:

Orange Vermillion (by Scott Future)

I’m a little sad there isn’t any snow on the ground.

I’m a lot of sad that I’m home & not this place.