1. when life gives you lemons, throw them back at his face and tell him to screw off. or fuck off, whatever you’re into. don’t forget to give him a black eye while you’re at it.

2. no doesn’t always have to imply negativity. if that’s the case then you probably would’ve eaten worms by now, you would’ve had 7 boyfriends by the time you were 17 (cause lets face it, you’re pretty damn beautiful) and virgins would be the ones being shamed right now. the word “no” won’t cause an arrow to magically appear, pointing at you with the words “AVOID HER, SHE’S A TOTAL BITCH” in neon lighting. say it with me now. No.

3. his words mean absolutely nothing if they’re the ones pushing those tears out of your swollen eyes.

4. it’s always hard to hear advice like this when the only thing you can hear, see, taste, smell, and feel is the venom and spite spilling out of his lips. but there’s a reason the gods gave us the gift to raise heaven from ash.

5. when you’re whole life has revolved around the pain he gives you, it’s not easy to just run away. not a normal pain; a feels-like-you’re-getting-stabbed-you-just-can’t-see-the-blood kind of pain. but honey, at one point we all thought the whole universe revolved around this goddamn earth.
turns out, we were wrong.

6. take a break. go outside. breathe in the fresh air without all his negative shit making the space vibrate into insanity. buy a plane ticket out of this place and meet new people with new thoughts and new light. if you can’t afford it, get a job and actually get some work done without his texts buzzing in your ear.

7. smoke a cigarette. just that one though, don’t want you getting sick. while you’re at it, smoke some pot too. binge drink with friends or alone (it’s not being selfish, it’s being human). Fuck around with boys, fuck around with girls, ignore everybody ‘cause you’re not obligated to care about the entire human population. For once, be selfish. find happiness in sin.

8. We’re all on our way home. He’s just a tiny pebble you happened to trip over.
Time to get up darling.

by

to the heartbroken girl peeking outside her window, wishing he’ll come back.

- S. R.

Sunday, 08:30 PM   + 3

was i supposed to feel this alone?

Photo by S. R.

They said you were a star in the making.
But they were wrong;
You were already a star.
Beautiful. So beautiful.
But you didn’t want to shine, no,
You just wanted to burn out.
Friday, 08:30 PM   + 146

vanilla-revenge:

The rough terrain and the clear waters are almost as textured as humanity. But nothing could have as many piercing spikes.

-S. R.

We live our lives as if we have nothing
But to some small dreamers, we have everything.
by S. R.
Sunday, 08:30 PM   + 5
Here’s to the kids
who may have been shit at life
but couldn’t give a damn;
they were happy
and that’s all that mattered.

1. I can’t breathe. Whenever my lungs try to grasp the oxygen right in front of me my heart just tells me that I don’t deserve it. That I don’t deserve anything.

2. I can’t speak. Every time words threaten to spill out of my lips, I hesitate. And in that hesitation I find all that is wrong. My flaws. Imperfections. Defects. Cracks. Scars. Me. I find my fucked-up self and I can’t let people hear that part of me. I just can’t risk it.

3. I can’t see. I don’t see what I want to see whenever I find a mirror. Instead I see what people want me to see and that’s the worst in me. I live in fear of the reflective because fear of my own reflection is at least the tiniest bit better than fear of my own self. I have at least the tiniest percentage of peace. But it can’t last. And I’m scared of the day when it will run out.

4. I can’t think. The thoughts in my head don’t even belong to me anymore. They aren’t from my soul and they don’t belong in my mind. Yet they’re trapped in my skull as if chains are holding them back from peace. I feel sorry for them until I realise that maybe they’re not trapped. Maybe they’ve decided to stay and take whatever there is left of my sanity. Well, if I had any in the first place.

I can’t breathe.
I can’t speak.
I can’t see.
I can’t think.

I can’t live.

by S. R.
Sunday, 10:47 PM   + 6

Seconds
Minutes
Hours
Days

How long does it take to heal a broken heart?
Or at least, to gather all the pieces together.

Days
Hours
Minutes
Seconds
Forever.

by S. R.
Thursday, 10:02 PM   + 55
I’m glad that I look like shit when I cry,
Because my pain is not supposed to be beautiful.
Sunday, 09:52 PM   + 3831

“May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out.” 

- J. R. R. Tolkien

Photo by S. R.

llmns