poetry // embarrassing ooey gooey mushy stuff


And while you’re off fucking your new girlfriend, the ditzy stoner with a bad dye job. I hope memories of me hit you like a train. I hope you remember that I was the one that talked to you all night when your grandma died and it was me that held you in my arms on the days where all you wanted was to be dead to the world. I hope you remember when we made KD in our underwear and that you kissed me while I was sitting on the kitchen counter. I hope you remember that I was the one who sat through those horribly made horror movies with you just to make you smile and that I was the one who listened to you rant on and on about how much of an asshole your dad was. I hope you remember that I was the one that convinced you to quit smoking cigarettes and that I was the one that always accepted your dumb apologies. I hope you remember that it was always me. You know it was. I hope you know that it was always you too. I hope you remember that I loved all of you. I hope you know it was exhausting. But above all, I hope you’re happy.
—(H.S) Just so you know (via dumbdaisies)

september 19// 3:09 am
ur not mine anymore but im urs i’ll always fucking be urs it’s so sick u ripped my chest open n left me laying on the bathroom floor to rot but we both know that if u showed up at my house 6 yrs from now looking for a heart to break I’d give u mine all over again
[delivered]

september 27// 2:07 am
i just wanted to tell u that i miss u
[delivered]

september 27// 4:16 am
i rly fuckin miss u
[delivered]

november 18// 5:14 pm
i kissed someone else today n he didn’t make my mouth bleed the way u always did but i still wished u were the one i was kissing
[delivered]

december 4// 3:38 am
ur such a dick lol
[delivered]

december 4// 3:41 am
im still in love w u
[delivered]

december 16// 8:16 am
omf it’s still hard to sleep without u what the fuck did u do to me u were the kind of boy who tasted like stars and kissed like outer space but u turned my insides black
[delivered]

march 11// 4:02 pm
this boy told me he loved me and i want so badly to get butterflies n to grab him and kiss him bc i think he’s good u know like maybe he won’t break me but every time he says it i just get sick bc i can’t stop thinking about all the times u told me u loved me and probably never meant it
[delivered]

april 17// 5:22 am
u ruined me
[delivered]

april 21// 11:19 pm
i’d still kiss u if i could
[delivered]

may 8// 4:06 am
ur drunk and u just left me a voicemail and i think it was an accident but this is the first time i’ve heard ur voice in months and i can’t stop shaking and i miss u i miss u
[delivered]

june 4// 3:17
ur eyes were like one of those pretty spiderwebs covered in raindrops that look like diamonds and i got trapped in u and u ate me alive what the fuck i just wanted to hold ur hand
[delivered]

june 13// 2:17 pm
my mom just asked what happened to us and i threw up
[delivered]

—13 texts I shouldn’t have sent (via extrasad)
I laid in bed for five hours this morning. It was one if those moments where an hour seemed like mere minutes. I feel like a bad faucet, the kind my father would fix without asking first. I keep leaking, just like the sink in my bathroom where we first awkwardly avoided eye contact as we were brushing our teeth. I feel like my car in December. The exact way it would shudder and slow down, resisting my urge to go on. I am my engine. I’m missing something and it’s bringing me to a halt. But just like the incessant dripping of my faucet, nothing stops. The shutter speed of my perspective has slowed and I’m watching as if outside of my body. The street lights blur and faces are going out of focus as they travel down sidewalks, forming streaks where the constant traffic of people has smeared my surroundings with the indistinguishable evidence of individuals laughing, talking, hurrying with some destination in mind. And here I am, floating. All I can think about as the minutes pass is that I’ve still got a leak, but my dad isn’t here to fix it.
—Found this written in a book (via horn3land)

I’m honestly surprised this has gotten as many notes as it has :o

(via horn3land)
Heaven exists.
It’s 7pm with your lips pressed against mine.
Hell exists.
It’s 3am with you on my mind and not in my bed.
—Heaven and Hell (via fassadenmensch)

(Source: unpoeticheartbreak)

I’m not going to be the girl you marry, but I’ll be the girl you’ll be thinking of 20 years from now while you engage in polite sex with your boring wife who fakes her orgasm to make you feel better about your receding hairline.
—e.b. (via spacky)

(Source: angelicpanic)