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tired of saying goodnight

flower olympics

I’ve survived a lot of things, and I’ll probably survive this.

J.D. Salinger (via villere)

(via villere)

i wrote this for my mother and a boy. i never showed either.

i spent most of my life learning the art of fitting in, only to find out i am nothing close to an artist. my mother always told me to be myself so i searched for myself in the rugged words that cut the lips of those that spoke them instead of searching for myself in the rugged cross that cut the skin of that perfect man who died so long ago. 

i hope you know that when i say sunsets make me cry, that is no joke. i have hardly ever looked at a sunset and not felt the entire ocean crash behind my eyes. however, i have learned to calm the waves and for that i know you are grateful so you aren’t forced to watch the tide sweep away the black under my eyes every single night. 

when i was younger i made my home in the sadness that took over my body. i lived there for a year and found no satisfaction in life. i liked it that way but i could never tell you why. my mother told me that life is better outside that home that i created. she was right, but sometimes i still visit. and when i do you always know because you stare right down into that sadness. but you’re kind. instead of yanking me out of my old home, you sort of crawl in and hold me until i’m ready to leave again. no one has ever done that. 

I know you’re not here, I can see it in your eyes when we talk. Where ever you are, come back soon.

Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You (via iwasadaisyfresh)

(via stay-december)

i’d laugh with you for forever.

six word story

…and as the rain beats down on the small ledge outside my window and drowns out the lingering scent of burned cannabis, i remember why you left and how just like the rain clears the air of weed, the distance you travelled cleared your lungs of the same
poison.

i get tired of waking up to the sound of sirens on my street, but i hope you never grow tired of the things that are meant to help you.

a thing i wrote about a person one time

i’m sorry your cigarettes don’t burn fast enough
and the smoke doesn’t fill your lungs quicker.
i’m sorry the music you hear doesn’t bring you to tears
and the people you love don’t settle your fears.
i’m sorry that the drinks you swallow don’t wash away the pain you feel
and burn the bad right out of your blood.
mostly i’m sorry that you search for love in kisses and drugs and that you fall asleep at 4am without finding it.

She’s sunny one minute then she’s pouring down rain

thesadghostclub:

The sad ghost club’s guide to not being sad - by lizemeddings, coming soon!

my dear, you slay me

and if i talk too much of the future,
please know it’s because i simply cannot bare to imagine a life without your arms, your eyes, your smile, the way you laugh when i do something stupid, the jokes you make, the things you do to make the ones you love smile, the names you call me, the way you wink, the freckle that sits just above your lip, and mostly.. the way you make me (and everyone around you) feel like they are the most important humans on earth. a life without you doesn’t sound like much of an adventure at all.