The words I couldn't say

“If you can see a future without me and that doesn’t break your heart then we’re not doing what I thought we were doing here.”

—   That 70’s Show (via temperare-te)

(via whutevuh)

(Source: civilwhore, via casadecats)

1. People say that when you love someone you see stars when you kiss them, but stars burn out and leave a bad taste in your mouth and holes in the sky where light used to be.

2. When I was 9 I broke my arm and I was convinced that I heard the bone shatter and I started screaming and crying and I had to spend 6 hours in the hospital. I saw the x-Ray, there were cracks under my skin, I don’t want another 6 hours in the hospital and cracks in every bone in my body when you say goodbye

3. My sister fell in love with the boy who lived down the street, the one with dark hair that always fell into his eyes, who spoke in twisted poetry and kissed her like she was all he would ever need, when he told her that he met someone else she stopped eating and only wore long sleeves no matter how hot it was outside, she didn’t smile and she stopped writing poetry after that.

4. I know that when I meet a boy who makes my stomach flutter I’ll want to take him up to my roof and make him count the stars with me the way I do when I’m sad and I’ll want him to hold my hand while we cross the bridge next to the library that makes me feel less alone and I know that once it’s over, I won’t be able to go up to the roof without hoping I fall off and I won’t be able to set foot on that bridge without swallowing him whole.

5. When my dad ran away with the pretty blonde woman he met in Vegas who smelled like smoke and spoke through cheap red lipstick I swear my mother’s heart stopped, I don’t think it’s ever going to start again. I don’t want my heart to die before I do.

6. I don’t want his voice stuck in my head or his touch lingering on my skin, I don’t want his smell soaking through my bedsheets or the way he tastes drilling cavities in my teeth. I don’t want to have to forget. I don’t want to have to miss him. I don’t want my chest to hurt more than it already does.

7. I never really liked butterflies anyway, I always thought ladybugs were a lot nicer.

8. I don’t want to have to stop smoking so many cigarettes because he worries about the way I breathe while I sleep. I don’t want to stop hurting myself because he hates finding blood on the inside of my sleeves. I don’t want to have to fix myself for anyone because I don’t think I can.

9. I hate the way I know I’ll shake when he kisses someone else or lets his phone go to voicemail when I call.

10. I don’t want to meet his mother. I don’t want to wear a nice skirt or make small talk. I don’t want to be torn apart under a microscope. I don’t want to hear her whisper to you about how messy my hair is. I don’t want to watch her cry because she always thought you’d end up with a good girl.

11. I never finish books. I hate endings. I don’t know how to say goodbye. The words get caught in my throat and choke me. I think trying to let you go would kill me.

—   11 reasons I’m not going to fall in love  (via extrasad)

(via iam-theworld)

12:30 am July 14, 2014

Oh god. I forgot what it felt like for my heart to physically ache. I’m over you, I’ve been over you, and I’m never going back but looking at old pictures and messages just brings me back to how I felt then. It doesn’t hurt me anymore knowing that you are not the person I had thought you were; it hurts knowing that you put me through so much unnecessary pain. I feel so bad whenever I see something that makes me think of you because that was a time in my life that I definitely never want to experience again. You tore my fucking heart out of my chest and I just let you do it. I learned so goddamn much from those 6 months but learning didn’t help my heart to heal. I grew in so many ways because of what you put me through and I can appreciate my self growth now but it makes me cringe to think about how much pain you caused. There was nothing beautiful about the way that you single handedly tore me to pieces but there is something beautiful about the way I was able to stitch myself back up; and this time I reinforced those stitches and I’m sure as hell a lot stronger than before. Reading the old messages makes me want to throw myself off a bridge because I can’t believe the bullshit I put up with. The fights, the attitude, the self loathing and hatred, your inability to appreciate me, stringing me on, and straight up meanness that bombarded me throughout the whole day. You consumed every one of my thoughts and honestly, you controlled my fucking universe. You were the one thing that I was afraid to lose. And when I lost you, man, there was no worse feeling. I can still feel my heart drop to my stomach when you confirmed my biggest fear. I remember my tears just pouring out while I frantically dialed Tay and the words “there was another girl” stumbling out between sobs. I have never experienced a worse day because that was the day that my entire world came crashing down. Everything that I wanted was now a sick dream and I didn’t have a single fucking thing. But that was 8 months ago and I’ve come a hell of a long way from there. Yeah, you still cross my mind sometimes. Sometimes I still wish you were a part of my life and I daydream about receiving a text from you and years from now meeting at a cafe. I romanticize you to the point of fiction and I paint you to be the awesome girl I once thought you were. In reality, if I got a text from you I’d probably tell you to go fuck yourself because I don’t need any reminder of the past. Truth be told, you still have a special place in my heart and I’ve never loved anyone with the intensity that I gave to you. With that being said, you are still the only person to ruin me and I will never forgive you for that. Yes, I’m a hundred times stronger and better off without you but I’m not the same person that I was when I first met you. The innocence and childlike naivety are now gone and I’ve been forced to deal with real life; I miss viewing the world as a perfect place. I’ve got a good head on my shoulders and I’ve come to see things as they are, not as I wish them to be. I’m not the person you knew 8 months ago and I’m damn proud of who I’ve become.



People who say sadness doesn’t hurt physically apparently never experienced feeling so sad. I’ve felt it in my legs, my jaw, my head, my quivering lips, aching eyes, and my aching chest. It hurts my chest the most because it literally feels like your heart is in pain.

distance is a fucker

(Source: sweetstarlighht, via samtolson)

If you find a girl that is willing to go through hell just to keep the relationship going, you really shouldn’t take her love for granted.

Going through hell for someone and in return being taken for granted was the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced. Never. Again.


(via sunflower-mama)

this works both ways.

(via whatistumblrforeals)

(Source: picsandquotes, via dgavind)

“I hope you fall for her
And I hope she falls for you too
And while you’re planning your life together
I hope she gets up
And walks right out your front door
I hope you never see her again
And that she breaks your fucking heart
Just like you broke mine”

—   (via consu-med)

(via suupreme-cunt)


Kinda scary that I’m sitting in the lawn at the U, shit.. I’m finally asking myself the questions I should have asked last October. This is my dream school but never once did I question if this is the place for me

“And it was after months of silence that I realised we make better strangers than we ever did anything else.”

—   (via your-daisyfreshgirl)

(via mis0neism)




I hope you fall for her and I hope she falls for you too.

And while you are planning out your future together,

I hope she gets up and walks right out your front door.

I hope you never see her again. I hope she breaks your heart.

—   just like you fucking broke mine (via the-psycho-cutie)


snapchats I never sent #3

(via thechildofstyle)

Doing Whatever It Is I Do.: To The Bitch Who Stole My Girlfriend



To the bitch who stole my girlfriend:
Fuck you.
Seriously though, I am writing you your own poem, not because you’ve earned it, but because karma is a little too slow for my taste. Emily, right? Can I call you Emily? I remember the first time she talked about you, said you were cool, hesitated to show me your picture though, tripped over herself to say “she’s nice… but not that cute.” Ouch. Don’t think I didn’t know then. When you spend enough time pressing someone’s heart to yours, you memorize the sound of it thumping, can hear it like your name whispered across a crowded room. I wonder if you know that her heart has always said my name. I told her I was glad she’d found a friend, encouraged her to meet you when she was afraid, offered my support like a lighthouse through my invisible storm, because she needed to learn her own lessons. 
Couldn’t help myself from looking into you though, spent enough time on your facebook and your blog to find a reason to be impressed if there was one, or maybe I just have my standards set firmly above average. Your words were “I study brains and disorders and they are more fascinating than you,” and when you learn that a brain is a mind, is a person, is a life, maybe you’ll figure out that you can’t find humility in a CAT scan. Knowing how something works but not knowing its worth is ignorance, and this world doesn’t need any more people who can tell you all the things that are wrong with you but can’t respect your humanity.
The day I met you I wanted to feel bad about myself, wanted to try to see in your face what she saw, kept trying to make it hurt but I… couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I might have been more threatened if you could say hello without stumbling, could hold a conversation, shook my hand with any semblance of a character, or maybe it’s because… well I hate to ruin the mystery, but she can tell you where my hand was that morning. She told me how badly your hands wanted to touch her, she told me when she let you kiss her. Swallowed enough liquor to make herself sick just so she could face me, then told me “eh, it was okay, not magical like our first kiss.”
I would be lying if I said I didn’t laugh when she told me you said you could love her so much better. I don’t have to know you to know you thought you had her, got cocky a little too soon and started talking shit. I am not fighter, and I laughed again to know you said you could kick my ass. Drive your incompetence into my gut as hard as you can until you find something close to respect, because I feel just fine.
You didn’t deserve this poem, and that’s why I’m writing it for me. Because I can weave a noose for your arrogance with the tip of my tongue, braid my vengeance into a double helix of dignity, and collapse every chance you ever had of hurting me like sediment, into something solid: my own self worth. So fuck you.
I wrote this before she came back, but I would have told you before that even if she had ever let you touch her, you’d just be getting your unworthy fingerprints on a glass window through which you looked at a woman who loves me. Understand that she walked back, stood confidently, came to me with her pride in tact, because I would have never made her crawl, because I would have never gone out my way to make her feel small, like you did. I feel bad for you, because I don’t think you knew what you were getting into, and I hope someday, you love someone the way I love her, and you have to let her go, because maybe then you’ll back the fuck off when you hear the word “girlfriend.”

I like this.

(Source: ashleywyldepoetry)

“And even if I were to go on my knees with pointed rocks and broken glass piercing me, it would be less painful than the words that come out of your mouth.”

—   My final letter to you (lovemarking)

(Source: lovemarking, via fuckingcuddle)