i’m not made for this world.

„Grief, l've learned, is really just love. It's all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.“

what will it be, boss? the comfort of misery or the pain of change?

nah just cuddling ain't enough, I want to merge my soul with hers

mutuals, I am dropping full sized candy bars in your pumpkin shaped pail.

i hate it when i cant even write a poem about something because its too obvious. like in the airbnb i was at i guess it used to be a kids room cause you could see the imprint of one little glow in the dark star that had been missed and painted over in landlord white. like that's a poem already what's the point

you get it. you get the themes. i dont have time to do it justice. just look at it its on the ceiling

these exchanges and this fiddling about for the collective to appreciate in passing is, to me, true artistic spirit. I don't know what the past was truly like to live, but in my heart i know that humans have always been... like this

"do you seriously think you're above the rules" the stupid ones yeah

There’s no break. Just more responsibility. I just want to be done. I’m tired. Why should I care if no one else does?

it’s so funny that I don’t classify tumblr as like being Online like this is just my Room

promoted your pronouns to nouns