Mad Sounds
Cute Polka Dotted Blue Bow Tie Ribbon

the perks of being a piece of shit.

esexist:

why fall in love when you could fall on the floor and never get up

(Source: diqqity, via ihills)

concretekids:

tonight I want to not exist 

(via hxpnotize)

I don’t think you will ever love me as much as you loved her.

blvss:

this made me cry

Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed.
She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to.
She opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three.
Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap.
Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.

You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.

You say: She was younger than me.
You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.

You say: It’s nothing now.
You don’t say: But it was everything then.

Some things are better left unsaid (via cactus lungs)

(Source: poppyflowerpoetry, via architect-without-a-home)

kaliforhnia:

Idk why I keep getting sad over people that don’t give a shit about me.

(via midnightsoulwanders)

running4thehigh:

Just in case no one told you today:

  • Good morning
  • You’re beautiful
  • I love you
  • Nice butt

(via destielattackstitans)

lovingvaldaya:

Robin Williams’ passing is a reminder that those who make us laugh the most are usually fighting the biggest demons.

(via destielattackstitans)

relhavant:

”It’s funny how i thoughtI was good at hiding myfellings, but then strangersstarted asking me what waswrong and why I looked sotired and that’s when I realized you didn’t care enough to notice”By: Simone // creakz
shes-breakingdown:

chrismend:

awake—at—last:

vulnerablx:

happens everything time

this is so true


exactly
It’s kinda sad isn’t it?
That someone could hurt you so much that you have to write about it.
July 7th (via la-m0rt)

(Source: demorxlise, via xseahavenx)

My mother tells me
that when I meet someone I like,
I have to ask them three questions:

1. what are you afraid of?
2. do you like dogs?
3. what do you do when it rains?

of those three, she says the first one is the most important.
“They gotta be scared of something, baby. Everybody is. If they aren’t afraid of anything, then they don’t believe in anything, either.”

I met you on a Sunday, right
after church.
one look and my heart fell into
my stomach like a trap door.

on our second date,
I asked you what you were afraid of.
“spiders, mostly. being alone. little children, like, the ones who just learned how to push a kid over on the playground. oh and space. holy shit, space.”
I asked you if you liked dogs.
“I have three.”
I asked you what you do when it rains.
“sleep, mostly. sometimes I sit at the window and watch the rain droplets race. I make a shelter out of plastic in my backyard for all the stray animals; leave them food and a place to sleep.”

he smiled like he knew.
like his mom told him the same
thing.
“how about you?”

me?
I’m scared of everything.
of the hole in the o-zone layer,
of the lady next door who never
smiles at her dog,
and especially of all the secrets
the government must be breaking
it’s back trying to keep from us.
I love dogs so much, you have no idea.
I sleep when it rains.
I want to tell everyone I love them.
I want to find every stray animal and bring them home.
I want to wake up in your hair
and make you shitty coffee
and kiss your neck
and draw silly stick figures of us.
I never want to ask anyone else
these questions
ever again.

three questions | Caitlyn Siehl (via alonesomes)

(via mydemisee)

liftedandgiftedd:

if her legs aren’t shaking when you’re done then you’re not done

(via elitef0ur)