never again

will i let someone in
ask submit about my poems

(Source: airviation, via aeliens)

(Source: escshiftzeroone, via cvmplete)

drinkmehalfway:

Austin Texas

(Source: miketalladen, via harmonette)

“I just, I can’t describe what I feel for you but it starts from the pit of my stomach and warms my chest until I can practically feel every nerve ending in my body and all I want is for you to touch my skin.”

—   (via loav)

(Source: snowlilies, via ecc-ntric)

“You think ‘Okay, I get it, I’m prepared for the worst’, but you hold out that small hope, see, and that’s what fucks you up. That’s what kills you.”

—   Stephen King, “Joyland” (via grillfriend)

(Source: fuckyeah-unclesteve, via ghosthomo)

intergalacticscum:

jenesaypah:

Immie’s bed (most perfect place/room ever)

:/

(via imlosttttttt)

“We emotionally manipulated each other until we thought it was love.”

—   Warsan Shire, “34 Excuses For Why We Failed at Love” (via epikhi)

(Source: larmoyante, via cocacolatitties)

blackgirlcrisis:

afrosandawesomeness:

confictus:

ignorantarts:


you’ll regret me like the tattoos on your skin3.18.14

DEEP

OH MY GOD

Snaps fingers. Straight poetry.

I screamed.

blackgirlcrisis:

afrosandawesomeness:

confictus:

ignorantarts:

you’ll regret me like the tattoos on your skin
3.18.14

DEEP

OH MY GOD

Snaps fingers. Straight poetry.

I screamed.

(Source: delicatepoetry, via caper-noited)

“My pillow isn’t as comfortable as your chest.”

—   (via euxome)

(Source: the-psycho-cutie, via conchae)