I hate this feeling. Like I’m here, but I’m not. Like someone cares. But they don’t. Like I belong somewhere else, anywhere but here, and escape lies just past that snowy window, cool and crisp as the February air.
Ellen Hopkins, Impulse
Just once, please choose me first.
Six word story, May 20, 2014 (191/365)
the worst crying is when you’re lying in bed, with your hand over your mouth so you don’t make noise. the tears are running onto your pillow and your heart’s breaking and you’re thinking of everything that made you cry, and your other hand is on your heart or stomach because they both hurt.
A year ago I would’ve never guessed life would be the way it is now.
yes (via wildlxve