warning—-sign:

love
reblog   source:confessions-of-a-cutaholic  warning---sign   notes:2145   posted:4 hours ago  

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

- It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)
reblog   source:weheartit.com  lapuraviida   notes:82   posted:14 hours ago  
n6jlv:

>if this isn’t art, then what is it?
>if this isn’t art, then what is?
>if this isn’t art, then what?
reblog   source:n6jlv  leighannsays   notes:497   posted:1 day ago  

n6jlv:

>if this isn’t art, then what is it?

>if this isn’t art, then what is?

>if this isn’t art, then what?

Same
reblog   source:awenchlikeme  leighannsays   notes:25783   posted:1 day ago  

Same

madnessinutopia:

Broken on We Heart It.
reblog   notes:77   posted:6 days ago  
reblog   source:lanascola  sweetpinkkiss   notes:49932   posted:6 days ago  

lameborghini:

1. wear more black
2. be meaner to boys
3. do homework maybe

frigxd:

Just Chillin’ | by cec403
reblog   source:frigxd  imdrunkkatvogue   notes:7562   posted:1 week ago  

Jimi Hendrix and Carmen Borrero

reblog   source:michelgamboa  lapuraviida   notes:22768   posted:1 week ago  

We are more than the worst thing that’s ever
happened to us. All of us need to stop apologizing
for having been to hell and back breathing.

Your bad dreams are battle scars.
What doesn’t kill you cuts fucking deep
but scars are just skin growing back
thicker when it heals.

Let it heal you. Try. To be honest. Open.
Even if some days that means saying,
“I still feel broken. I’m too beat down to even get
out of bed. But I have faith, yes, tomorrow
I will stand.”

I’ll relearn justice. I’ll love without fear.
I will be braver than the monster who
crawled out from under my bed. I swear,
I will not give him the satisfaction
of being the thing that breaks me.

- from “Broken,” Clementine von Radics (via philcoulson)

info

We are more than the worst thing that has ever happened to us. All of us need to stop apologizing for having been to hell and come back breathing.
What doesn't kill you cuts fucking deep but scars are just skin goring back thicker when it heals.
--Clementine Von Radics

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