gabwhite:

sometimes, i remember him like this. mostly, i dont think on his hands or the lilacs. but springs back, and so is that tiny purple flower. girls here have them cupped in their rooms, soft reminders of things that don’t smell like a ranch. and i miss him, vaguely, each time i walk through the door. 

(Source: molls)

12:11 am  •  19 June 2011  •  413 notes