Being loved is not the same thing as loving.
When you fall in love, it is discovering the ocean after years of puddle-jumping.
It is realizing you have hands.
It is reaching for the tightrope when the crowds have all gone home.
Do not spend time wondering if you are the type of woman men will hurt.
If he leaves you with a car alarm heart, you learn to sing along.
It is hard to stop loving the ocean, even after it has left you gasping, salty.
So forgive yourself for the decisions you’ve made, the ones you still call mistakes when you tuck them in at night,
And know this: know you are the type of woman who is searching for a place to call yours.
Let the statues crumble. You have always been the place.
You are a woman who can build it herself.
You were born to build.
Aw wow I’m sorry baby this makes me wanna kiss you. I’m more on ink—d.tumblr.com now because this one brings me down a lot. Or feel free to add me on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/shannon.monk2 :*
order a fucking pizza with me and watch a fucking shitty film with me and play with my fucking hair and wear my fucking tees to bed and fall asleep in my fucking arms you fucking fuck
Don’t do drugs. Do me
Do drugs and me.
Do drugs with me. And then do me.
He told me:
If you want to cut yourself,
then you’re going to take my arm,
look me in the eyes,
and cut as many times as you would yourself.
I told him:
I couldn’t hurt you like that.
and then I understood.
i just told mom how much i want to kill myself after we had a falling out and i threw my room apart and she threatened to send me to a mental institution.
now she’s telling me to move out.
ha ha ha fuck.
it’s weird how it’s socially acceptable to put someone else’s genitals in your mouth but eating a dorito off the floor after a few seconds is gross what a fuckin double standard