I really wanna fuck in a pool. Like the possibilities are endless. My god. But it’s like. Our pool. In our backyard you feel me. Boy. Bet I be eating pussy under water. That’s some wavy next level shit. Put on my goggles. And i’m gone. That’d be some shit if i’m eating her and she’s so into it and she feels me stop and is like ” baby ? ” and i’m on the other side of the pool floating dead. I forgot I needed air. Ain’t even come up smh

Oct 21 21:30 with 20,418 notes


let me sleep in ur stupid t-shirts and hold ur dumb hand u piece of shit

Oct 21 0:03 with 533,240 notes
Maybe it won’t work out. But maybe seeing if it does will be the best adventure ever.

(via unenergetic)

(via u-nprecedented)

(Source: the-taintedtruth)

Oct 21 0:03 with 210,944 notes
When someone calls you sensitive as if it’s a weakness, don’t listen to that. It isn’t a weakness, it’s a strength. If you are highly sensitive you are also probably very empathetic to others. You can tap into their emotions and actually physically experience them. Beautiful music or writing resonates with you on a deeper level and can bring you to tears. You are usually intuitive, creative & insightful. You may be so intuitive that you can even predict the future. You have a greater conscience & are less likely to harm others- especially those you love. You probably have the ability to connect with animals in a rare way. You experience pain on a grand scale, but you also experience love & happiness in the most powerful & passionate ways. So next time someone tells you that you’re “too sensitive”, just smile and tell them thanks.
― (via happyvibes-healthylives)

Oct 21 0:01 with 1,493 notes
You rarely see
adults writing
sad poetry
like the teenagers
of today’s age do.
I wonder if
it’s because by the time
we get to that age,
we’ve been told enough times
to keep our thoughts
and feelings to ourselves
that we don’t write it out anymore.
And I think
that we don’t write
because enough people
have told us
what we do
is never good enough.
― (A.) on letters-2-myself|tumblr (via letters-2-myself)

Oct 20 22:50 with 113 notes
I ruin people. They either crumble like sand under my burdens or drown in my seas of sorrow. People do not understand that when I shut them out, they are dodging a bullet.
And I am so sorry to the people I let in - I am selfish.
― i am a death sentence, e.m (via b0thers)

Oct 20 22:49 with 1,231 notes



Oct 20 22:46 with 140 notes

“Home is where the heart is,” they say, but
I can’t find my heart. No wonder I never feel
at home. I get caught in bed sheets and bad
dreams about the past, pictures and memories
slap me in the face even when I’m asleep.

There’s no escape really, I use to drown in
my tears at midnight and wake up alive. Now
I realize I’m in over my head, slowly suffocating
myself with unsaid words and crowded thoughts.
Things I cannot, will not, don’t even know how to
actually say, are what bug me every single day of
every week. Leaving the house doesn’t even help
anymore, because I just want to fall back into the
waves I call covers and sleep just to forget, but
really to remember, what I’m running from.

You know, you live in a house with family, but really
what is family? I don’t remember anymore, because
it’s more like strangers you know really well, just
not enough to tell them you’re slowly dying inside
your mind. I’ve had longer conversations with
sleeping pills and the walls of my bedroom. At
least their silence doesn’t make you feel like
you’re fucking insane.

“I’m fine,” has just become the default of, “I wish
you’d stop asking, you don’t really care.”
Or maybe it’s because I’m too tired to explain what’s
wrong, or how I feel, because I live it every waking
moment. Maybe it’s the thought they would know by
looking into my lifeless eyes, there’s nothing there.
Maybe it’s the urge to tell my mother the
first time my skin was kissed, it was by the razor,
then realizing how pathetic I really am. Or maybe it’s
just the sadness talking, I don’t really know anymore.

i.c. // "What’re you running from?" (via delicatepoetry)

Oct 20 22:43 with 1,360 notes
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