“The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.”T.S. Eliot (via larmoyante)
oh my frick
Oh My Frick
woo woo woo
Jim Halpert impersonations
“what i never
The Color of Low Self Esteem (via modernmethadone)
from my mother
just because someone desires you
not mean they value you.
desire is the kind of thing that
leaves you starving.”
i accidentally showed some weakness earlier today it was disgusting i would not recommend it
“In the room of everything I have lost
-In The Room Of Everything I Have Lost, Clementine von Radics (via clementinevonradics)
nobody is crying. There are boxes and boxes
of lipgloss, sunglasses and cellphones.
All my baby teeth are crushed into dust
on the floor. My virginity is around here somewhere
in a box marked “New Years Eve, 2008”
In the corner
Something hangs in the air like regret, or acceptance
or maybe some strange mix of both.
And of course in the room there is you.
I remember when you said you loved me.
Kissed me under a streetlight and said
“Of course I’ll never forget you. The rain in
your hair, how your mouth tastes like Marlboros
something about you burns in me. And all of it
sounded like a promise to save me.
I thought you could absolve me of my foolishness.
My nightmares. My glass skin. I thought you could
heal me. I could wash the plaster from your fists.”