Losing More Than My Sanity

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why the fuck am i crying

literally me during any situation that is slightly emotional (via tommypickles)

(via frenchbreadrecovery)


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September: it was the most beautiful of words, he’d always felt, evoking orange-flowers, swallows, and regret.

Albert Camus (via floriental)

(via leviblah)


poppunkfunk:

I’m in this weird stage where I don’t really like myself, but I don’t really care anymore

(via tennant-smith-capaldi)

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It doesn’t even matter if I love you more than anyone else in this damn world, you don’t want me.

K.L (via aztecianlipstick)

(via aztecianlipstick)


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I always used to judge those girls who got back with a guy after he had done her wrong. I always used to think to myself ‘what’s wrong with her? There are other guys out there, why would she put herself through that for a guy who doesn’t even care?’ But now I understand why those girls did it. I understand it now, because I have become one of ‘those girls’.

And I don’t know who I am anymore erica-s-diary (via erica-s-diary)

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I’m so used to it now. Throwing my body like an unwanted baggage
to a dynamite blasted corner. If love was a place, I knew exactly

where heartache was. It was where my knees were pressed
against my chest as though I’m receiving half a dozen

kicks for every lungful of air I take. It was where you kissed me
and you did not mean it, so my skin has running stitches

all over and underneath. And now I keep wondering if I was
ever whole in the first place, or if I was just the first

handmade blanket you found after escaping the fire that you started.
Tell me again how you ended up in my arms. Did you ran fast?

Did you ran after me? Or did you just manage to pass me by
so that you can leave just as easily? Tell me.

Was loving me an accident?
Was loving me an easy way out?


Kharla M. Brillo, I’m used to you leaving but I’m never used to you. (via pouvoires)

(via pouvoires)