avoiding hate like


(via lovemetoinfinity)

1 week ago | Permalink


and after an eternity:
the door creaks as you push it open.
I’m ready to talk now, you say.
but there is no-one left to listen.

(via anditslove)

1 week ago | Permalink



The worst part about being there for everybody is that no one ever bothers to ask if you’re okay or not


(via itssdebborah)

1 week ago | Permalink

my edit
Ur beautiful don't be upset about that guy <3
by Anonymous

thats really sweet but no worries i’m not :)

Asked 1 week ago | Permalink



if i was trapped inside a room filled with explosives and the only way out was to eat a whole tomato i would die

How the hell would you even get in that situation

(via mapleslattes)

1 week ago | Permalink

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 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 scxndal)

reblog this everytime its on my dashboard

(via todieiny0urarms)

(Source: extrasad, via michelles0ng)

1 week ago | Permalink

how are they even real