"I stopped believing in love when I was 11 years old. At the same time that I first saw my fathers hand go across my mothers face reality did the same to me and I realized none of it was real. I once read a story about a man who loved a blind woman so dearly that he gave one of his own eyes so that she could see. Once the woman could see, she left this man because he was ugly. I keep telling myself that maybe one day I will believe in love yet again. It is because of this that I have ripped myself open to so many people and now there is nothing left. I am completely empty. I have given entirely too much of myself to boys who only touched my body because their body was intoxicated with the thought of fucking my brains out. No one will ever fill me. Here I stand, with gashes leaving every part of me completely open. No matter how many human beings come by and pour themselves into me it will pour right back out. So ask me again why don’t I believe in love. I don’t believe in love because love is not calling you at 3am begging for you to fuck me just because I need to feel something. Love is not my fathers hand across my mothers face. Love is not giving your eye to a charming blind woman and being left because you are undesirable. Love does not exist, people only let themselves believe that because they are entirely lonesome and need to feel the fire of another’s fingertips burning against their skin. Love is none of these things, because love does not exist."
- I realize that I am bitter, and I plan on keeping it that way (via afwul)

(via pretentieuxgarcon)

"

but maybe snow is just angels
flicking ashes from their
cigarettes down to earth
and the days we spend home
from school playing in powdered
crystals will leave us coughing
up smoke when we turn 16

and the light pink dress your
mother used to make you wear
will turn red where it hits your
hips and kisses the tips of
your wrists and your mother
will ask you why there’s blood
on all your clothing and you’ll
pretend like you haven’t been
doing drugs in the bathroom
at school and crying so much

and one of these days I’ll scream
at you to kiss me and you’ll do it
and we’ll both burn into the ground
and watch our bones melt into
nothing because we are nothing
even though we’ve got ourselves
convinced that we’re the world
but at least your lips are against
mine

and you don’t always feel it at
first but when you feel it oh god
you feel it

and liquor seems like a good idea
until it’s not

and you’ll get better at feeling sorry
for yourself and bandaging cuts

and you’ll get better and finding
the stars under your skin and
learning to breathe again

and you’ll lose your fucking mind
but you’ll find it
again
and again
and again

and I’m terrified of growing up and
leaving behind chapped lips and
peach tasting kisses and fireworks
and headaches and eyes filled with
oceans pouring down your face and
flooding your mouth
but I would go anywhere with you

"
- Growing Up (via extrasad)

(via extrasad)

slutsandsinners:

catieewebster:

roadxzombie:

milkshake1378:

chlorodream:

lady-of-redemption:

He did it. He actually managed to describe how it feels to live with depression and suicidal tendencies.

this is really, really important

Wow….perfect. The old paint…..

I haven’t seen this guys stuff for months but this still hits me as hard as ever

Always repost! I love this so much!!!

YES OMG

(Source: cantcontrolthegay, via miss-daisyy)