196448 Reblog

7 years ago

481540 Reblog

7 years ago

healingsuggestions:

you are growing from this
you are growing from this
you are growing from this

(via angel-fxce-deactivated20230212)

10517 Reblog

7 years ago

19924 Reblog

7 years ago

"If you knew I was down for you, why did you fuck me over?"
a question that is never answered (via cali-cocaine)

(via angel-fxce-deactivated20230212)

620358 Reblog

7 years ago

marinasexual:

THE WORST FEELING EVER IS WHEN YOURE SO ENTHUSIASTIC TELLING SOMEONE SOMETHING AND YOU CAN JUST PHYSICALLY FEEL THEM NOT CARING AT ALL SO YOU TRY HARDER BUT YOU JUST CANNOT GRASP THEIR ATTENTION SO YOU SLOWLY FADE OUT AND LET THEM GO BACK TO DOING WHAT THEY DO AND YOU WANT TO APOLOGIZE FOR TAKING TIME OUT OF THEIR DAY TO TELL THEM SOMETHING YOU’RE HAPPY ABOUT

(via bl-ossomed)

297957 Reblog

7 years ago

goth17:

I’m too sensitive for life

(via maythealiensbewithyou)

183129 Reblog

7 years ago

314863 Reblog

7 years ago

416751 Reblog

7 years ago

"

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

"
It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)

(via bl-ossomed)

630439 Reblog

7 years ago

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