letterboxlove: skysignal: thoseareturkeys: maddieness: justlearning: shany: (via (kerry))
wears heart on sleeve
rock the cowgirl blues, rock too fast for love ♥
Apr 23
“ Does he walk around all day at school with his feet inside your shoes, looking down every few steps to pretend he walks with you? Oh, does he know that place below your neck, that is your favorite to be touched, and does he laugh through broken sentences like “I love you far too much.
— Bright Eyes (via skylinesandshipwrecks) (via jeezits) (via tephiee) (via whenshesings) (via myhideaway) (via maddieness) (via breathsoftruth)
I can never get that “me” back.
This is from my past relationship. I guess we get by that naive stage at some point.
“ It’s easy. You just love me with all your heart and soul till the end of time.
thresca: words by Taylor Swift
and this is the reality.. when you get hurt badly.. even when you think your whole world had crashed, when you have no sense on how you’ll get on.. even if you sit in your corner, surrounded by your sadness and misery..
life moves on..
and eventually
so will you.
I close my eyes and I let my body shut itself down and I let my mind wander. It wanders to a familiar place. A place I don't talk about or acknowledge exists. A place where there is only me. A place that I hate. I am alone. Alone here and alone in the world. Alone in my heart and alone in my mind. Alone everywhere, all the time, for as long as I can remember. Alone with my family, alone with my friends, alone in a room full of people. Alone when I wake, alone through each awful day, alone when I finally meet the blackness. I am alone in my horror. Alone in my horror. I don't want to be alone. I have never wanted to be alone. I fucking hate it. I hate that I have no one to talk to, I hate that I have no one to call, I hate that I have no one to hold my hand, hug me, tell me everything is going to be all right. I hate that I have no one to share my hopes and my dreams with, I hate that I no longer have any hopes or dreams, I hate that I have no one to tell me to hold on, that I can find them again. I hate that when I scream, and I scream bloody murder, that I am screaming into emptiness. I hate that there is no one to hear my scream and that there is no one to help me learn how to stop screaming.
breathsoftruth: myhearteatsbeats: pretty-bird: A million little pieces; James Frey
“ The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead.
— Marilyn Monroe allthatglittersispink | 1980 (via silentsigh) (via out-of-my-dreams) (via justbesplendid) (via kari-shma) (via letterboxlove)
