your six a.m cigarette

19 years old. i like coffee, hungry kisses, concerts, alcohol and my bed. |-/
Anonymous asked: i feel your pain


Answer:

about the tattoo thing or something else? i’m sorry you’re in the same boat, whatever it may be. i say fuck people and their opinions yo.

20 days until Bobby’s birthday and then ONE MONTH until my golden birthday 😊

the tattoo that i’ve wanted for years is now super cliche and people would never stop giving me shit for it

cutedeadgxrl:

I didn’t know I was lonely ‘til I saw your face. 

(wasn’t working for a while but it should be fixed now.)

(via porn4smartgirls)

Shinji Moon, What It Took To Understand (via cactuslungs)

(via yungstoners)

There is a shipwreck between your ribs and it took eighteen years
for me to understand how to understand your kind of drowning.

There are people who cannot be held quietly. There are screams
that are never externalized. If I looked at the photo albums of your
past twenty years, all I would find are decibel meter graphs of
phone calls and the intensity of your silence as you sat
smoking cigarettes in the garage.

There is a shipwreck between your ribs. You are a box with
fragile written on it, and so many people have not handled you
with care.

And for the first time, I understand that I will never know
how to apologize for being
one of them.

If there’s no one beside you

When your soul embarks

Then I’ll follow you into the dark

(Source: playmusics, via iamwerepandahearmeroar)

who thinks i should get a tattoo in cali and piss my parents off hahahahha

high writing (via asasinato)

(via asasinato)

when asked, “how are you?” there are two ways to respond:
you could say, “well, my bones ache from the wind blowing right through me. i’ve become a ghost again.
my head hurts from the nicotine withdrawals, or maybe it’s from withdrawing from her, i don’t know.
i keep picking scabs and i think i’m bleeding out.
i haven’t spoken to my best friend in weeks and he doesn’t seem to mind.
my mother hasn’t poked her head through my door to say goodnight in a year, even though that annoyed me i miss it
my father yelled at me for eating popcorn tonight. he’s always yelling, still.
i replace glasses of water with glasses of vodka, no chasers. no one seems to notice.
my hands have been a little shaky since i started taking more pills and stopped eating.
my rooms a mess and i’ve been sleeping way too much. shouldn’t someone say something to me?
i’ve been getting high to sad songs, it’s ruining the trips. or maybe it’s the thoughts spinning around like cyclones on water creating tidal waves on the beach i visited two years ago, where i saw all the baby jellyfish glowing in the sand at 2a.m. and i held my own hand for the first time.
the girl who broke my heart has been talking to me again. her words are so empty now i’m surprised they have the weight to leave her mouth.
they’re probably so rehearsed, she doesn’t think twice. i think a million times.
and i couldnt even get a text back.
my neighbors have been keeping me up late and so have my back pains.
i’m sorta deteriorating, you know?”
or you could reply, “fine, and you?” and be done with it all.

this fall, i should probably start looking for another job.

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