khaleesifeels

1. I have read your favorite book six times since we broke up. The ending is stupid and cliche. It hurts more every time I read it.

2. My mother stopped by today. She asked me why all the plants are dead.

3. I was shaking so hard I spilled coffee down my shirt. It burned my chest but not as much as you do.

4. I can’t breathe. I don’t really want to anymore anyway.

5. I’ve stopped writing. My new favorite hobby is tearing myself apart.

6. I feel knives in my chest when you speak.

7. I was supposed to go to dinner with my best friend but I couldn’t get out of bed. People keep telling me they miss me. I wish I had it in me to miss them back.

8. Sometimes I still feel you. Those are the nights when I choke on vodka and drag razor blades across the spots you liked to touch me.

9. I saw you walking down the street and I swear I could hear my ribs crack.

10. I keep telling my father that I’m fine but he doesn’t believe me.

11. There’s a hole in my chest where you used to be.

12. Maybe all the stars in the sky are dead.

13. It’s so fucking terrifying the way love still lingers in your bones even after it disappears from the air.

14. When I was little I was scared of dying. Now I’m only afraid of missing you forever.

15. I should probably stop smoking. I should probably stop drinking. I should probably stop crying when someone says your name. I should probably stop leaving the back door unlocked incase you come home.

I haven’t been doing very well without you  (via extrasad)
smittenniall

theperksofbeinganerd16:

geekishchic:

nuuku:

turtle-ambulance:

fun fact: “nolo” is latin for “do not want” so if someone says yolo you can say nolo and they’ll think its just a stupid comeback but in all actuality you’re speaking latin which is classy as shit so haha the jokes on them

and it means “(you’re) embarrassing” in finnish so it’s double joke on them

image

The more you nolo

kikisdeliveryfanservice
Discovering sex was like discovering writing. It was powerful in a way couldn’t explain. Like writing, you had to go beyond the guilt and shame to get to anything good. Like writing, it could take you to deep and mysterious subterranean levels. With each new depth I found out things about myself I didn’t know I knew. And, like writing, for a slip of a moment it could be spiritual, the cosmos pivoting on a pin, could empty and fill you all at once like a Ganges, a Piazzolla tango, a tulip bending in the wind. I was no one, I was nothing, and I was everything in the universe little and large—twig, cloud, sky. How had this incredible energy been denied me!
Sandra Cisneros, Guadalupe the Sex Goddess (via mangoestho)