when people ask why you left
i tell them your hands were pressed
too tightly against my skin
and you no longer thought the
bruises matched my eyes,
i tell them your mom never liked
my crooked hair or the way your
bed sheets always smelled like sex,
i tell them that when your grandfather
started repeating stories of your
childhood, it was a sign i had to go


when people ask why you left
i tell them that you realized there was
more to life than my tear stained palms
and jealous stomach aches,
that you have stepped on far
too many hair pins,
that you’re side of the bed grew bigger
as you watched me shrink,
that you were tired of hearing the same
fucking song for the fifth time in a row,
that you loved so hard it left holes in the
wall and my makeup on your pillow

loving a sad girl | fragilefuck (via fragilefuck)


i was trying to find a way to explain how i need you, some metaphor or something but nothing fits right and i will admit that i do need you, but not in the way that i need food or water. i need you the way that i need my soft bed at night or that dash of seasoning on my food. i need you for the…

"Do not try to be pretty. You weren’t meant to be pretty; you were meant to burn down the earth and graffiti the sky. Don’t let anyone ever simplify you to just “pretty.”"
Things I Wish My Mother Had Taught Me | d.a.s (via halluzinogen)

Where do you go when your house isn’t home?

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