What a strange illusion it is to suppose that beauty is goodness.


I’ve had enough and
I’m fucking sick of apologizing
when I did nothing wrong
but be there for you.
You don’t care about me
because if you did,
you’d fucking show it.

t.m.o, 3:30pm, July 2, 2014 (via conjurefamiliar)

My alarm is set an extra two
hours early so I don’t have to
endure another eight hours
replaying nightmares about
how you left me. I cut my
sleeping time to six because
eight is too painful a number.
Eight is the number of months
we’ve been together, eight
is the hour in which we made
love in the morning, and eight
is the number of words you left
stinging on my cheeks like
a wake-up slap, and I quote,
“I regret ever falling in love with you”

Eight isn’t so lucky after all (by justanonlychild)

Yay 100th post! ONWARD!

(via justanonlychild)

My house burnt down 
The ash stuck to my skin
There were 3rd degree burns on my heart 
The doctors saved me 
I have an electric pulse 
and a heart made of titanium 

My house burnt down 
The ash stuck to my skin 
You burned 
3rd degree burns covered your body 
The doctors couldn’t save you 
I couldn’t save you 

Your funeral was sad 
I watched them, 
take the galaxies from your eyes 
I watched them,
take the mystery out of your skin 
I didn’t know that was possible 

Your funeral was sad 
I looked at my scars
I looked at you 
The make up they used covered the scar above your eye 
You didn’t look right 
So I removed the make up
You looked perfect again 

Your funeral was sad 
The paster said your name wrong 
My titanium heart started to bleed 
and I started to cry 

Your funeral was sad 
They asked me to talk about you 
I tried 
I talked about how you traveled the world in your dreams 
I talked about how your touch was electric, 
I felt currents through my body 
it brought me to life 
I talked about the scar above your eye 
and why I uncovered it 

It’s been a year since your funeral 
I still wear the engagement ring you gave me 
I tell people that you’re dancing with angels 
I tell them how I was going to marry into a universe 
You were the universe 

It’s been a year since your funeral
I bought a bottle of the cologne you wore 
I spray it on the sheets 
I hope that it brings you back 

It’s been a year since your funeral
I pray to you every night 
I hope you’re doing well 
I tell you that I’m waiting to see you again
and I hope you’re waiting for me too

People ask how you passed 
I tell them how you burned in the fire,
I tell them how you saved me 
I tell them how you pushed me out of the way of the falling beam 
I tell them how you got stuck 
and you told me you loved me 
and you told me to run 
and I did 

People ask why I still wear my engagement ring, 
I tell them that I can’t take off the remainder of you 
I tell them it’s the only part of you that survived the fire 
I tell them I love you 
and I need to hold on to the last piece of you 
and I tell them 
I have the remainder of your galaxies and the mysteries of your skin 
on my left hand 
leading right to my heart 

People ask why I still wear my engagement ring 
I tell them it’s because I know you’re still wearing yours 

It’s been 60 years 
Since you’ve passed 

I still wear your engagement ring 

I hope you’re still wearing yours


(via unscriptedconfabulationmn)

Stop yelling at me 
I am not the punching bag your voice lands on when you’re angry 
every word damages my self esteem 

Stop yelling at me 
I have scars made of syllables and consonants 
I do not deserve your verbal garbage 
I do not deserve it 

One day your sentences will be in a letter 
I will craft it with calligraphy 
and ruin it with tears 
I will write about the punching bags 
and the scars 
and I hope you keep your trophy 
when I’m six feet below 

stop yelling at me 
stop yelling at me 

I am tired of feeling like your outlet


(via unscriptedconfabulationmn)

Do not forget
The version of yourself
That used to smile
And mean it.


When recovery is not all yoga mats
and tea and avocados, it is work.

It is listening to your body rather
than pretending not to hear her.

It is waking up so hungry, you are
nauseous, but swallowing breakfast

anyways. It is taking an hour to eat a
snack. It is your stomach throwing a

tantrum and telling the acidic voice
in your head she has the wrong address.

Trying to ignore the caloric calculator in my head is like trying to ignore television subtitles.

Every time you asked if I was full, I heard you say fat, and I’m trying, trying so hard not to do that.

This is teaching my body how to forgive.

This is teaching my brain how to apologize.

EAT, by Blythe Baird (via blythebrooklyn)


I won’t promise you the world—
Because I can’t even promise you my tomorrow.

He forgot about you. Remember that.

Remember this every day until it sinks in. Keep reminding yourself of this every time you are reminded of him until you realise that you deserved better. You deserve better. Remember that. (via c-oquetry)

(Source: fotzenkinder)


if you look at her
in just the right way
her eyes tell stories
that her lips will never say
they speak of the stars
burning holes in her lungs
like living constellations
dying to be sung.

I still remember the day you told me you were leaving
Our skin was still sticky from the summer air and your kisses were still on my hips
You told me it wasn’t me
You needed space
The problem is I already gave you my entire universe.

And you still left. (via be-fearless-brave-and-kind)