these cities, our graves

productsofpovertyy:

diewithstoriestotell:

okay, i never reblog this stuff. but Eaven. 

watch me strike a match on all my wasted time, as far as i’m concerned you’re just another picture to burn. 

casually crying and listening to justin bieber. 

sweet. 

The road outside my house is paved with good intentions, hired a construction crew coz its hell on the engine

yeah really. 

fml. 

Was probably a very very bad idea to watch Charlie St Cloud, I’m going to end up bailing my eyes out and feeling more alone than ever. I’m so over feeling so terrible and wish I could find someone to help me get over all this pathetic shit. Nobody seems to be able to understand and that’s what I need, someone to vent to. Or hug. I like hugs.

I think its getting to the stage where everything is getting so built up, I’ll snap again soon, completely loose my cool. I just don’t know how to deal these days.

I am also feeling so so much older and out of everything. Just someone fix me? Bandaid time!

takeawaylove:

K = We’re pissed.

I’m fine = Does it look like I’m okay?

Whatever then, I don’t give a fuck anymore = I care, I just want to stop arguing about it.

Get away from me = If you see that I’m pissed and you actually leave me, you’re a dick. I want you to stay and comfort me.

Are you sleepy? = Please don’t be, I want to continue talking to you.

sdjhfskjhfljsh :’) = You just left me speechless.

I love you = I love you. I really do.