Writer, Appreciative of Nature, Psych Major.

Haiku 2: The Sun Sets Each Night


Keep me by your side,

Break me apart, tape me up

This is how it ends.

© S.R. Olson

Haiku 1: Fucking; Making Love


Push me to the floor
Haunt me with your eager lust
Pull me back to you

© S.R. Olson

Independence Day →



Some people permeate you in a way that is unlike anything else. Being in love is a sinking ship that way…

I was talking to someone about this yesterday;

“Relationships are fucking restrictive and difficult. They are a lot of work. But sometimes people drag you in and it can be…

"Never Is a Long Time" →


You belong
In the darkness
Of 4am
Just before
The sun rises
And the wind stands still.

You belong
In the heaviness
Of the cloudy night sky
Just before
The rain falls
And washes you away.

You belong
In the hollowness
Of ‘you’re easy on the eyes’
Just before
The promise I…


enough about sex positions has anyone discovered a reading position which doesn’t get uncomfortable after 5 minutes

(via iceland-ia)

stayy0ungandwild (via perfect)

(via onthestellarway)

Have sex. Have dirty, raunchy sex. Have sex in the bed, on the counter, in the car, in the bathroom. Have it everywhere. Have passionate love making sex. Fuck. Go slow. Gaze into their eyes. Learn every curve and bump on their body. Learn what makes them quiver. Learn what makes them cum the hardest. Feel their body and fall back in love with them. Just have sex.


On my wedding day, I’m gonna recite my vows twice.

Once at the altar and again in the bedroom.

With my tongue.

On her pussy.

One letter at a time.


(via virginiawasteland)

But You Leave Them, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)

hits close to home.

(via m-iro)

The girls who love you
keep slipping through your fingers
after of all this talk
of how sure you are that
they deserve better.
This is how you push women
out of your life with mouthfuls
of good intentions.
You know what you’re doing,
but they were always
so beautiful and so kind,
and you never believed
you could love them right.
Not when you loved like the
rusty joints of rattling traincars.
You’ve never had hands like
a midsummer sunset, but god—
you loved a woman who did.
She was too much for you.
Too real, too alive.
She kissed the crickets
from your lungs, and you
forgot how to speak in the face
of her fearless quiet.
Like handspun glory,
like the divots in a hardwood floor—
her skin was soft and dark and holy,
and you were lying
when you said
you didn’t love her


When your girlfriend tries to hold your hand before marriage


(via relahvant)

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