1. Your eyebrow game is ON POINT.

    YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH PURPOSE MY LIFE HAS NOW THAT YOUVE SAID THAT.

  2. mooneyedandglowing:

    This is the most beautiful song I have ever heard.

    "& I am alone, so don’t speak. I find war, & I find peace. I find no heat, no love in me & I am low & unwell. This is love, this is hell, this sweet plague that follows me & my body’s weak, feel my heart giving up on me. I’m worried it might just be & my body’s weak, feel my lungs giving up on me. I’m worried it might just be something my soul needs. (…) & I see war on the screen & it is cruel & unclean, but I still worry more about you. & I am rude & unkind, have no thought & have no time, have no eyes, so no point of view. (…) & I am more than this frame, I feel hurt & I feel shame, just wish you would feel the same. & I am more than these bones, I feel love, I feel alone, just wish you would come home. I’m worried it might just be something my soul needs, something my soul needs. Something my soul needs is you, lying next to me."

  3. On Washing Yourself Clean(er).

    On the way to the bathroom, someone will ask if you’re alright. Pull your towel closer to your body, clutch it a little tighter and say, 

    "Yes."

    Strip each layer of clothing off one piece at a time, making certain to avoid the kind of contact with your body that makes your skin tingle in the kind of ways that scare you. Throw them away. He hasn’t noticed you’re gone yet, and you’ll never wear that dress again. 

    Turn the water on. Turn it all the way to the left. It is important to recognize that the temperature of the water will never be hot enough to do the kind of cleaning your soul needs. Be okay with this. Do not be okay with this. It won’t really matter. 

    I know you are afraid of standing directly under the water. This is not real fear. This is cold feet. But you already knew that, didn’t you? He still hasn’t noticed you’re gone. Put one foot in front of the other. Walk directly under the shower head and open your eyes. Now close them. Open them again, and you will stop seeing those things I know you see. 

    Is the water too hot? Is your skin beginning to turn red? Does it burn? Good. 

    On the shelf is that bottle of body wash you love, the kind with little exfoliating beads. Put too much in your hand, cover yourself up. Rub. Rub some more. Rub harder.  Dig your nails in. Scrub in circles, dig into your flesh. You’re not scrubbing hard enough. Remember, he still hasn’t noticed you’re gone. Keep moving your hands. Stop just before it seems like you could draw blood. 

    If you don’t think you’re clean, I know how you feel. Stand there under the rushing water, let the soap run off your body. Does that spot where he touched you last feel a little fainter? Does the scent of the soap overpower that lingering smell of his cologne, of his old t-shirts, of that last weekend spent loving in places that love can’t be kept alive? Can you still see the faded ink of his I love you's and please don’t leave, it won’t happen again and I am so sorry covering your skin? Can you feel your bodies response, hear your fingers trying to scratch an answer back that isn’t quite an apology for the things he did to your body, to the things you let him do to your soul, and for the things you did to it yourself? Wash your hair clean. Untangle the knots from tossing and turning in a bed that was too big, too empty, too full. When you were eight, your mother told you 

    Learn to recognize when people are not good for you, when they don’t mean to be good for you. Walk away. 

    And then she left. You spent eighteen years trying to fill her void with men who called you the wrong names, who showed up late to your birthday and men who tore your heart apart looking for their fathers between your legs. 

    You and I both know he wont wake for another hour, and your bag is packed next to the back door. You’ve got time. 

    Rinse and Repeat. 

  4. "Hello, I’m a Mess"

    I’ve got 99 problems but a-
    Wait never mind I’ve got 86 problems, and they’re all made-up scenarios in my head that I stress about for no logical reason,

    And I don’t know how to describe myself, but keeping a 2-pack of pregnancy tests under the bathroom sink and paying my rent two days after it’s due feels an awful lot like becoming the adult I thought I was all along,

    And I can’t sleep at night, but I guess that’s alright because I found someone who’s already awake, and there’s not one thing about him that reminds me of you.

    I stayed up till three this morning burning photographs, like that could save me from the last.

    And the year I spent waiting for you to commit those terrible crimes I knew you thought up in your head, I could have spent finding a way to admit I don’t know a damn thing about growing up, but I do know that one plus one equals one less night spent staring at the ceiling all alone,

    And no missed calls,
    Texts
    Or lousy poke on Facebook
    From you
    Means and has always meant that you don’t want me,

    And it shouldn’t have taken twenty pounds, changing my hair or finding someone else to realize this,

    But it did,

    And I guess that’s alright.

  5. sansgod:

    malahua:

    limped:

    coordinate-butt-to-mouth:

    This guy wears yoga pants and hides his face, then confronts guys who look at his butt.

    This is so funny

    Omg but I’m depressed his ass is nicer than mine

  6. How To Fall In Love, From Someone Who’s Not.

    Ignore the ones who say “I’m just like you” and walk away from the ones who want to get to know you better inside of your bed. What’s underneath your skin is none of their business.

    Avoid the ones who don’t come out at night, because the sunlight is a lot more forgiving than the moon and you shouldn’t have to be.

    Take note of the ones who hide within the corners of your eyes. He will be be one who knows what color your eyes are when the first snow falls.

    Somewhere along the way you convinced yourself that betrayal was a complex thing full of wrong turns, fake friends and regret that keeps you up at night but the reality of betrayal is as simple as your favorite skinny jeans refusing to budge past your knees.

    This is okay.

    Someone will break your heart before your twenty fifth birthday, and someone will tear your heart apart looking for his father between your legs,

    And someone will ask you your worst fears with the intent to use them against you.

    They won’t be the same person. Accept this. Be ready for this.

    The meanest words you will ever hear are “I don’t love you anymore” and they will come out of your own mouth. It will hurt the most because you are realizing your own capacity to inflict pain, and how great it is.

    The longest walk you will ever take will be from his bed to the front door without looking back, and

    From the first floor to the top when you convince yourself that you deserve better.

    Leave behind your spanx during the move, and stop relying on material objects to hold you together.

    One day you will fall in love with a boy who has icicles hanging off the tips of his fingers,

    Don’t let him freeze the parts of you that need warmth.

    And one day you will fall in love with a man who sparks a fire every time his fingers find your skin.

    Let it smolder, please for the love of God,

    Let it smolder.

  7. "Before I am your daughter,
    your sister,
    your aunt, niece, or cousin,
    I am my own person,
    and I will not set fire to myself
    to keep you warm."
    1/? Things To Remember  (via ahyasidi)
  8. It Feels Better Biting Down.

    I fell in love with a boy who tasted like Black’n Milds and a hatred of his mother, 

    who tore my heart apart looking for his father between my legs, 

    and I’ve been living on the leftover crumbs of your love, and I’m starving now. 

    When you left you said we’d see each other soon, but that last word was a lie and I think we both knew it. 

    I fell in love with the way for one split second I could see my breath in front of me during December, and I think maybe it’s because I don’t see you anymore. 

    For Christmas this year you sent me your only copy of Dante’s Inferno, said it smelled like innocence and reminded you of me, 

    but all I could smell was the ancient stink of disappointment and being passed from hand to hand 

    and I wished on every fucking shooting star I saw for the best and worst part of my life to stop being one person. 

  9. Do not plant me in your heart; I grow too quickly.

    Do not plant me in your heart; I grow too quickly.

  10. "We won’t be okay until I realize
    your silences aren’t about me,
    nor is the way you don’t miss
    me when we’re not together or
    the way you can’t say I love you.
    We won’t be okay until you realize
    my insecure hurts aren’t actually
    about you, nor is the way I keep
    forgetting that you love me. We
    are broken down cars tying to
    travel together and we need pit
    stops and check ups and there
    are times that I’ll cry so loudly the
    mechanics will tell you I have too
    many missing parts to be worth
    fixing. But fix me anyway. In many
    ways we are both more scar tissue
    than human, and until we realize
    we keep hurting from our old wounds
    (and not from each other’s hands),
    we will continue to take everything
    so goddamn personally."
    this hurt isn’t your fault. (via anneisrestless)
  11. This Is What 22 Looks Like.

    You paint your nails three times in one week because chipped polish says you’re just not as put together as your Facebook profile makes you appear,

    And the third therapist you visited last week says you have commitment issues. 

    But a woman named Susan who sits on a hard wooden chair and stares at you from across a cold and sparsely decorated room doesn’t know anything about you, 

    because she isn’t there at four in the morning when you roll over and realize that the boy is still there, 

    that his steady intake of breath, and calm exhale is the most calming rhythm you’ve encountered since that time you realized that pushing harder on the gas pedal in a 1999 Pontiac helped further you from everything that was too painful about your childhood. 

    At midnight every Monday you tiptoe to the fridge and drink milk out of the carton when your roommate isn’t around to see, 

    and you will try to remember what your grandmother once said to you about forgiveness, 

    but all that comes to mind is the irreconcilable truth that some people are so broken all they can do is hate you for being whole.

    By the time you’ve been hired and fired from your third job in one year,

    you’ll come to terms with the idea that there will always be someone who questions the motive behind forgiveness,

    but all that matters is how it makes you feel inside.

    22

    Is falling out love with ombre hair,

    drinking too much coffee at the wrong time,

    running your car on empty because you spent your last five dollars on a used Pixies cd from a sketchy thrift shop,

    fucking your friends (and your enemies)

    burning your tongue on a hot pocket because it’s the only food you can afford,

    calling your grandmother every Sunday

    and meeting your therapist every Wednesday till 

    "Daddy issues" 

    don’t make you cry anymore. 

    I think I’m doing just fine. 

  12. "

    Let’s not make this a fairy tale.
    I want your teeth and your anger

    on Wednesday mornings and rush hour traffic.
    There’s a sign post that says U-Turn and I

    imagine your hands away from the steering wheel,
    holding my pulse, how its beats like a red light

    when we stop to kiss, how my hands fit
    against the back of your neck

    like a rock rolling from the top of a mountain
    down to its own vehicle accident.

    Darling, I’m not going to let you save me,
    that is too much for me to ask.

    Let me fight you until I’m tired.
    I have been teaching my mouth to stop

    biting my tongue so that I can kiss you right and ask you
    ‘Will you marry me after this car crash?’

    "

    A Proposal by Kharla M. Brillo  (via pouvoires)

    this was wonderful. 

About me

I'm usually on a longboard, eating a burrito or not wearing shoes. All the good writers were alcoholics, and I aim to be great (sorry mom).

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