this one time when i was seven i thought that i could talk to trees (because i had no friends), and i use to sit by them and say things and one day i was talking to my tree friend called kevin and this girl went up to me and said “are you talking to that tree, freak!” and i started crying and hugged on to the tree, and while she was laughing one of the branches fell on the girls head, thanks kevin.
I’m laying in bed wallowing in my own self pity and I’m missing you. I really want you to be in my bed with your arms wrapped around me and i want to feel your chest rise and fall to the rhythm of your breath. And i want to kiss your lips before i turn over and fall asleep.
I hope you miss me, like the way I’m missing you
i hate it when flies fucking rub their stupid little shitty hands together like they’re plotting to ruin my life those tiny little bastards
Love says: I’ve seen the ugly parts of you, and I’m staying.
All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that’s the tragedy of living.
…I’m someone who’s mostly dead inside but still has a little hope for something extraordinary, which, as I said, is the worst breed of human, because it means I know everything is bullshit, but that I secretly hope for the day when it might not be.