I am of you

i hate myself and want to die but also i am so full of love and i want to spread light but i’m tired of the two conflicting versions of myself fighting. 

love all my traumatized girls, behaving like ghosts in the supermarket

sometime… u jus got 2 eat white rice. plain white rice. untouched. by itself. with your hands

people need to stop attacking teenage girls who write poetry about turning into wolves and having flowers growing in their ribs bc there are literally grown men writing celebrated poems and novels about how much they hate women

I would rather read 20 hours of teen Halsey-like angst than read another story about some dicksack crying about how betrayed he feels because the women he bought dinner for didnt suck his dick

reblogging this again because this is from Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents and I’m reading it right now and it’s incredibly awkward to read about my entire life’s problems neatly described by a complete stranger

cause of death: sensitivity