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im sophia and i have a secret crush on calum hood

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“When I’m lying in my bed I think about life and I think about death and neither one particularly appeals to me.”

Morrissey (via durianseeds)

“Open my legs and bury your secret wishes in my sacred grounds. I won’t tell anyone, just whisper sweetnesses into my hollow bones. Make flowers sprout freely from my ribs, make me feel alive. Tell me I’m not as fucked up as I think I am. Tell me I am a goddess, christ, tell me I’m immortal, I’ll believe it.”

a short poem for naive lovers (via wnterish)

“What if you don’t complete the person that completes you?”

23:04 (via planqts)

Scared

(via littlemosschild)

Week 1: I tried to drown myself in tears and the white wine my mother left in the pantry but your image kept pulling me back to the surface to choke on the past.

Week 2: I tried to turn up my headphones so close to bursting that they would push your laugh out of my mind but all I could hear was memories.

Week 3: I tried to rip up the pictures and smash the frame with my bloody fists and burn the paper lily you gave me once but every piece broke my heart a little more.

Week 4: I tried to rid my body of your touch so I ripped open my skin and blood poured out of my veins but you were still there in the center of my chest and how do you get rid of that.

Week 5: I tried to rid myself of every last bit of you stuck in every corner and crevice of my aching soul so I picked up the pills and held them in my hands for a long time, dizzy with so much power.

Week 6: I poured the pills and the razors and the pictures and the paper lily you made me once into a pile of memories that look like a pit to hell and I set all of it on fire so my soul could die too. Those things became all of me, so I died and became a phoenix and cried tears of healing.

Week 7: I saw you driving with your mother in that green car where we held hands in the backseat on the way to your house for the first time and I got carsick. You gave me ice cream and rubbed my hand in a way that gave me chills up my entire body. Seeing your face felt like someone lit my insides on fire. Probably you.

Week 8: It’s 3am and I keep opening your message box but the line keeps flashing and my hands stay still because I have nothing to say to you. I miss your words that were only for me.

Week 9: I hate you but I love you and I can’t think straight because all I see is your face again and again until I want to vomit all the memories and accusations and words that made me feel like my heart was turning inside out and I never mattered to you anyways.

Week 10: You never loved me but I loved you and every morning that thought is bitter in my mouth so I brush my teeth and rid myself of the taste of you and go downstairs to kiss someone who cares.

ten stages of a heart break

inspired by the works of porn4smartgirls

(via skimply)

Oh—you wouldn’t date a girl who’s ever been a stripper?
In that case, I wouldn’t date a guy who’s ever been to a strip club.

Oh—you wouldn’t date a girl who’s ever done porn?
In that case, I wouldn’t date a guy who’s ever watched porn.

You’re the reason we exist.
You’re the demand to our supply.
If you disdain sex workers, don’t you dare consume our labor.

As they say in the industry, “People jack off with the left hand and point with the right.”

Lux ATL (via hachikuji)

“I’m still hoping it’s you and me in the end.”

10-Word Story #26 (N.A.)

“Maybe one day it’ll go away. Maybe one day I won’t give a fuck about anything.”

Luke Hemmings in “Rock Sound” (via heartbrakegirl)

“Nostalgia is a
dirty liar
that insists things
were better
than they seemed.”

Michelle K., I Can’t Stop Questioning It. (via taiheiyo)

The friends you will call extensions
of yourself the day you graduate high
school may not be the first people
you call when you get engaged.

Not all kisses will be good ones.
Some will be wet and miss your
mouth by so much, you’ll start to
wonder if they’re looking for
something beyond you, something
your skin will never add up to.

The first time you go home with
a stranger, tell them they are
beautiful and spend the night
begging them to show you
more of their heart in between
your crescendos and releases.

When you leave in the morning
without saying goodbye, hope
they understand that it was
for their own good.

The people you love can be
untouchable and hard and mean
when they have been hurt, but
do not let that stop you from
breaking down their bathroom
doors and holding them together.
You will find that people often
insist that they are whole far
more when they are falling apart
inside of your arms.

It took me so long to learn that other
people are not limbs. You can hurt
for them when they break, but your
pain will not be one in the same with
their experience. Do not tell her you
“know how she feels”, tell her you
will be here when she needs to
release it.

Pain can be so great, but the
sky is always the most beautiful
after nasty storms, bent on
knocking down trees and keeping
homes in the dark.

Buy an umbrella.

Don’t let anyone tell you
that you do not already
have everything you will
ever need.

for the little girl in the supermarket picking out lipstick, Emma Bleker (via larmoyante)

“Inside us there is a word we cannot pronounce and that is who we are.”

Anthony Marra, from A Constellation Of Vital Phenomena (via sweetlotus)

“Yes, poor little old you. There we were, discussing rape, violence against women, systemic oppression and other manifestations of sexism, and you had to jump in to remind us that “not all men” do these things. Why don’t you really say what you want to say? “I HAVE NEVER RAPED/HIT/ASSAULTED A WOMAN!” Right? Isn’t this what you really want to say? Yes, make a discussion that is about the plight of MILLIONS of women about poor little old you. I mean, millions of women are being assaulted and oppressed, but you’ve never done it, so why are we making you uncomfortable with these discussions?”

Brenda Wambui breaking down the ridiculous “Not all men!” phrase over at Medium. Top-notch work. (via cutely-perverted)

“You get depressed because you know that you’re not what you should be.”

Marilyn Manson (via thauwn)

“Your feelings are valid simply because you feel them.”

something lovely my therapist said (via jeanprouvair)

“Wanna know the fucking truth? Nobody is fucking happy. Nobody has skin made from oil paint and sunlight. Nobody fucking understands this world. Fuck, nobody understands math as much as they claim. You’re here one day and the next you’re not. God? Religion? I’ve learned a lot more about the world by eating acid and swallowing pills. Tell me what your church has done for you? Tell me if you have holes in your mouth from speaking lies? Wanna know the fucking truth? Pity is just another word for pathetic. Drink beer and watch the sunrise from every rooftop. Take photographs naked. Take photographs kissing. Take photographs having sex. Stop making everything about sexuality. Wanna know the fucking truth? Nobody really gives a damn if you lost your virginity at fourteen or if you were the president in high school. Wanna know the fucking truth? There is no such thing as the right person. People leave. They change like ocean currents, they leave you with bruises in your calves. And you wanna know the fucking truth? You get better. You learn to love. You find God in between the cracks of a wall when you’re puking your limbs out. You wanna know the fucking truth? Go find it.”

something someone should have told me when i was eighteen  (via irynka)

“I change during the course of a day. I wake and I’m one person, and when I go to sleep I know for certain I’m somebody else.”

Bob Dylan (via psych-facts)