It hurts to let go. Sometimes it seems the harder you try to hold on to something or someone the more it wants to get away. You feel like some kind of criminal for having felt, for having wanted. For having wanted to be wanted. It confuses you, because you think that your feelings were wrong and it makes you feel so small because it’s so hard to keep it inside when you let it out and it doesn’t coma back. You’re left so alone that you can’t explain. Damn, there’s nothing like that, is there? I’ve been there and you have too. You’re nodding your head.
Henry Rollins (via observando)






Am I allowed to tell this joke at parties??

She is so satisfied with that joke.
324,096 notes
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i burned myself on your lips as if you were
electrical wiring and i was convinced
that somehow our kisses tasted more like
watermelon sherbet and sunny summer afternoons
instead of bleak nights where i almost cried into
these shaky palms which are not strong enough
to cup all this sorrow, no, i kiss you and i taste the
secrets i have told you as they die beside us, i taste
how i told you “i think the bird in my chest has suffocated”
and you said it was maybe sad maybe wrong maybe something
i don’t remember because within the next hour
you let me pour whiskey down my throat and pour my soul
into the bottle so you didn’t have to deal with
the weight of it on your shoulders and then
while i was drunk enough i couldn’t speak, i let you
fuck me and i wonder if that was fun for you or
just some kind of duty you have to perform over the sheets
where you have held other girls and maybe let them
mean more to you

and i keep saying you’re love and you’re light and you’re
something out of the fairytales but goddamn
i have never cried about someone the way that i cry about you
because i love you with a sickening addiction that’s
wrecking me i mean i shouldn’t have forgiven you
for so many things like how you hate my writing
and are embarrassed to hold hands with me or
how when you dropped me and saw i couldn’t land on my feet,
you just left me there to pick myself back up again
and come home

i mean i’m a wolf to other people i’m all fire in between my
teeth, i could crunch on your bones for breakfast
and still have time for tea and yet i can’t fucking
tear you out of me.

His thoughts are like explosions and it captivates me. But he isn’t good… he isn’t a good person. /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)

Holy sheetttt


its kinda scary how your whole life depends on how well you do as a teenager 

(Source: unsavioured, via humorking)


best porn blog ever
267,361 notes



My dad just said: at your age you’ll probably wanna try a lot of things. Boys, girls, being a girl, being a boy, being punk or goth or spunky. And im okay with that. As long as you don’t come home and tell me youre a republican

parents who care

(via qvbit)

And a mistake repeated more than once is a decision.
Paulo Coelho  (via seulray)

(via erikoinen)


Almost a thousand people in West Africa die from ebola and nobody bats an eyelash, yet 2 white people in the US contract it and miraculously a cure is released and given to them because they’re an “extreme circumstance.” Satire is dead and real life is a dystopian hellscape

(via qvbit)