Squid
Squid
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thelovenotebook:

Words of Emotion
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xtoxicwaste:

s-k-e-t-c-h-e-d:

mess // 365 Poetry Project #107


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"It is a diagnosis,
not a definition.
It does not know you,
nor does it own you."
Michelle K., Overcoming My Diagnoses. (via michellekpoems)
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firnandfiire:

Geometea | Firn & Fire
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brblookingforalaska:

1hey:

I was gonna write about you again. but then I remembered you don’t care. and I should be over this.  truthfully, I didn’t deal with it in the first place.  maybe that’s why it’s been pouring out of me lately. the emotions and hurt, I mean. they’re kind of drowning my fucking guts. I want you to know I still think you’re as lovely as the sunsets I wanted to show you.  and the moon that I did.  I don’t know if you remember that but you said it was beautiful.  I remember thinking, I wish I could give it to you somehow.  because your eyes were so sad.  it would’ve been nice to see them in awe.  I looked at you in awe.  anyways, I want you to know I’m happy for you.  I’m pissed you’re not happy with me. but that’s not really what people are supposed to say.  so I’ll just say I’m happy for you and leave it there. I’d still give you the moon if I could.  I’d give you the whole fucking sky.  even if you wanted to share it with her instead. 


So relevant
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"I’ve never been very good at leaving things behind. I tried, but I have always left fragments of myself there too, like seeds awaiting their chance to grow."
Joanne Harris (via perfect)
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"Tell me what your worst fears are. I bet they look a lot like mine.
Tell me what you think about when you can’t fall asleep at night.
Tell me that you’re struggling. Tell me that you’re scared. No,
Tell me that you’re terrified of life.
Tell me that it’s difficult to not think of death sometimes.
Tell me how you lost. Tell me how he left. Tell me how she left.
Tell me how you lost everything that you had.
Tell me that it ain’t ever coming back.
Tell me about God. Tell me about love.
Tell me that it’s all of the above.
Say you think of everything in fear.
I bet you’re not the only one does."
All Our Bruised Bodies and the Whole Heart Shrinks, by La Dispute, from Wildlife (via chaztrubon)
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"It’s all messed up:
The hair.
The bed.
The words.
The heart.
Life…"
William Leal.    (via retratou)
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"Because hangovers hurt less than heartache."
Six Word Story by P.P.
(via her0inchic)