A TEXT POST

Because there’s a kindred spirt in everything that’s broken, For only the damaged understand the damage, only those wandering and lost can find each other and because there is something beautiful about hearts that aren’t whole that find any and all solace in each other, because the idea of a group of people finding the things they are missing in each other, growing through each other, because of each other and not in spite of each other is hope. Because what grows from that, what beautiful thing that grows from that is a family and all families no matter how different or broken are a thing to be cherished to be celebrated to toast drinks too and to take with you wherever it may lead you after. It is the things that come out of the breaking that are strong, those are bonds for life not the things we grasp on to in the darkness but the things that pull us into any level of the light. 

A QUOTE

“That’s all right,” she says, and I have to wonder how many times she’s said that to the people in her life who screwed her over somehow.

Reblogged from fuck it, i give up
A QUOTE

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 she 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.

Reblogged from fuck it, i give up
A QUOTE

My wants are simple: a job that I like and a guy whom I love.

Reblogged from Miss JC
A QUOTE

I knew I matured when I realized every situation doesn’t need a reaction. Sometimes you just have to leave people to continue to do the lame shit that they do.

Reblogged from
A TEXT POST

I don’t think karmas real anymore. Why do you get to be happy when you did all the wrong and i don’t. I gave you too much to still be this empty. 

A QUOTE

On behalf of every man, Looking out for every girl: You are the guide and the weight of her world.

Reblogged from
A QUOTE

I like storms. They let me know that even the sky screams too.