just out of curiosity, reblog this if your family has ever made you feel bad about:
- your weight
- your interests
- your friends
- your taste in music
hair is not permanent. baths will make u sleepy and so will lotion. if u aren’t up for school don’t fucking go. u don’t need to explain urself. it’s ok to give in to societies expectations sometimes. girl sweat is a gift from whatever the fuck u believe in. just bcause u can,doesn’t mean u should. bring food with u everywhere and don’t hesitate to eat it. ur aren’t as bloated as u think u r. write things on ur hands.
I’m sick of people telling me it’s just a “get over it” situation. Fuck you. You don’t know what it’s like in my head.
Act my age?
What the fuck is that, “act my age”?
What do I care how old I am?
The Ocean is old as fuck.
It will still drown your ass with vigor.
but my mind was racing at three hundred miles per hour even though the speed limit was forty five,
running on broken glass and eggshell footsteps that trod down with a silence that could only be described as deafening,
straight towards the cliff face and hurling itself right off into the blue-blackness that i was stupid enough to call home.
you kept me a secret for so long,
and if your tongue was a pen,
then you scrawled forgeries of my heart across every single person that i trusted you with,
and now i can’t tell if there’s a knot tied in my chest or if it’s around my neck.
maybe it’s just the alcohol that i can still taste in the back of my throat,
but i’m starting to choke again on all the lies that you fed me to keep me sane.
i think that if you cut me open, only your name would bleed out,
and that is not a good thing,
that is not a sign of love,
that is a sign of hatred bred by love,
you chewed me up and spat me out and i am not going to disappear.
you probably thought that your skin would forget my touch,
that her tongue would wash away my aftertaste,
but sweetheart i am not something that can be washed away.
i am not sugar coated,
i am not a memory that you can easily get rid of.
i am bitter medicine,
and while i have left in the physical sense,
it is damn near impossible to get rid of the memory of me.