The prettier the garden, the dirtier the hands of the gardener.
B. E. Barnes, Put in work. Tend yourself. (via wnq-writers)Won’t we be quite the pair?—you with your bad heart, me with my bad head. Together, though, we might have something worthwhile.
Zelda Fitzgerald, “Letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald,” 20 Dec. 1940
(via thelovejournals)
Ideal date: laying in ur bed showing u all my favorite songs
REASONS TO LEAVE
1) Your lipgloss is really sticky
2) Frida Kahlo said to take a lover who looks at you like you are magic. To be fair, witchcraft is a type of magic. You always saw me as something unholy, like my heart was an open flame and my hair might wind around your neck like a noose. You were terrified to love me. I was terrified that you would stop.
3) You get nauseous at the sight of blood
4) My love letters always turn into suicide notes
5) When you hold me, your hands shake
REASONS TO STAY
1) You kiss like you’re telling a story and I’m not ready for it to end. I’ll go back to chapter one if I have to. I’ll even read the copyright page.
2) Frida Kahlo said a lot of other things, too. You quote her to me all the time. Your favorite is, “I love you more than my own skin.”
3) I love you more than my own skin
4) My suicide notes always turn into love letters
5) When you hold me, your hands shake
Every 40 seconds someone commits suicide.
If you feel like you’re the next person, watch the clock until the end and remind yourself you’ll be okay in another 40 seconds.
t8t:
Abuse abuse abuse abuse with a fistful of manipulation. Starring: Me held hostage by the belief that You cared
My mind was poisoned with imagination. “Yes” has always meant “No(thing)”
“Nothing” I’d tell friends and family as I screamed internally at everything that served as a reminder of you fucking me.
And it’s not just my body that was ripped open, each time I felt the slightest breath of yours it was like a knife slicing up my mentality.
My thoughts are disorientated and it disgruntles me and you’re disgusting and I want to dissolve BUT my tears are pure.
I loved you like you were family; like because after everything, you’re barely human (let alone mine)
I feel too much (let alone scarcely, the only wish)“Varför?” stings the most.
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