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[writingllama-deactivated2020012]

“One day, he’s going to know. He’ll know your birthday, your middle name, where you were born, your star sign, and your parent’s names. He’ll know how old you were when you learned to play violin, how your grandparents passed away, how many pets you had, and how much you hated going to school. He’ll know your eye colour, your scars, your laugh lines, and your birthmarks. He’ll know your favourite book, movie, candy, food, pair of shoes, colour, and song. He’s going to know why you wake up in the middle of the night most nights, where you were when you realised you had lost yourself, why you picked up the razor, and how you managed to put it down before things went too far. He’s going to know your phobias, your dreams, your fears, your wishes, and your worries. He’s going to know about your first heartbreak, your dream wedding, and your problems with your mother. He’ll know your strengths, weaknesses, laziness, energy, and your mixed emotions. He’s going to know about your love for all things salted caramel, your dream of being a vet when you were five, your need to sing along to every song you know, and your fears of growing older. He’ll know your bad habits, your mannerisms, your stroppy pout, your facial expressions, and your laugh like it’s his favourite song. The way you chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget, and kiss. He’s going to know that you’ve already picked out wedding flowers, baby names, tiles for the bathroom, bridesmaid dresses, and the colour of your bedroom walls. He’s going to know, get annoyed at and then accept that you leave clean clothes out for days, get scared ordering at a store, have to organise your DVD’s by genre, and check your horoscope… just in case. He’ll know your McDonald’s order, how you don’t like sugar in your coffee, how many scoops of ice cream you want, and that you don’t like sandwiches unless they’re toasted. He’s going to know how you feel without telling him, when you’re holding in a laugh, and that you’re crying without shedding tears. He’s going to know all of it. Everything. You, from top to bottom and inside out. From learning, from sharing, from listening, from watching. He’s going to know every single thing there is to know, and you know what else? He is still going to love you.”

— He’ll Know / Love

[naughtysoutherngent]

[silent-insanities]

I can’t make you love me, but every night I hope you will.

[uhnsaids]

“you will meet so many people in life. some of these people will stay… others will merely pass by. but there will always be a reason why you met them, even if you don’t understand it. you will also make so many memories, both good and bad. that’s just how it is. trust in yourself and the journey you’re on. there is no right or wrong path to be on. there is only the one that will lead you to who you’re supposed to be. have fun. don’t rush. enjoy it before it’s over.”

— note to self.

[vomitingwords]

"He would've been the best thing that has ever happened to me." she said. "But he made me realized that I haven't yet lived half of my life since the last time I saw him."

Not a single chance // ma.c.a

[acurlygirlamy]

Sometimes people just need to fall asleep tangled up in someone...

Or you just lay there. Trying to remember the last time you felt close enough to someone to fall asleep beside them.

[robwolf88]

🐺✨

[shmwrites]

Loneliness is a cruel tormentor. It will make you go running to people who broke you before and will make you believe that the same won’t happen again. It will push you into the arms of someone who doesn’t deserve to hold you. It will make you think that you deserve someone who loves their self more than you. It will make you feel like you deserve the inevitable pain that will come from chasing people who will never appreciate you. It will make you blame yourself when others treat you badly and convince you to forgive the unforgivable. It will make you chase people who aren’t enough to deserve your love or know how valuable it truly is. Loneliness will make you break your own heart.

Loneliness, it’s a cruel tormentor.

[spaceshipsandpurpledrank]

What does foreplay have to do with a girl being wet? Why is that a man's responsibility? It's their vagina.. We can't control that...

Yo… so I’ve been sitting on this dumb ask… cause like… I couldn’t believe it… But since I’m coming up on 30… might as well educate. First off can I just say for y'all niggas that claim to love women so much, it baffles my mind that y'all REFUSE to learn anything about them.

1st. The Vagina is a reactionary organ just like the penis. We get horny blood rushes to our penis and bam we hard. When girls get excited same thing blood rushes to the clitoris and it becomes engorged (that means it gets bigger) and then in preparation for penetration the body begins to produce natural lubrication to aid in insertion. Unlike us though this is not always an instantaneous process

2nd. So what does this mean? It means if you don’t do things to stimulate her… 9 times out of ten the vagina has no idea there is dick on the way and it stays dry. So when you try to stick your ashey ass dick in there it sucks for everyone

3. So spend some time playing with her… talk dirty to her.. rub on her thighs, kiss her neck, suck a titty (personal favorite), hell just makeout with her. Women have erogenous (that means sensitive and pleasurable) zones everywhere not just the places you wanna stick your dick. Explore your girl find them and make sex good for both of y'all. As little as ten minutes getting her started and can make all the difference.

This has been my TEDTalk.

DOFUCKING BETTER

[sparhawk86]

Seriously…….show her that you see her as a sexually desirable being and she’ll let you fuck her like the dirty girl she can be. But you have to do your part.!.

[6her9-blog]

“Oh you silly silly boy, you’re not going to fix me. No one can fix me. My heart has been broken one too many times. You’re going to lay here, and give me your body, and I’ll give you what we both want, and then I’ll leave. And you’ll tell me to stay, you’ll tell me ‘It’s only one night, sleep here’. But I won’t, I’ll leave. I promise you I will always leave. So no, you won’t fix me; but trust me, I will shatter you.”

-To the boy who wants more than what I can give him.

[vomitingwords]

"But maybe I just failed to love you." she said, barely smiling. "Maybe no matter how hard I try, I just can't love you like the way you wanted me to."

I wasn't that enough, was I? // ma.c.a

[petite-gloom-deactivated2018052]

When a girl says “Make me” that’s secret code for “fuck the shit outta me until I can’t walk or talk straight”

[vomitingwords]

"But you don't owe every single person an explanation of your choices." he said. "You don't have to tell everyone the reason why you do every little thing in your life."

Do they deserve to know? //ma.c.a

[emptymidnights]

“I still look at you sometimes and think this can’t actually be real. What have I ever done to earn someone like you? I don’t understand what you see when you look at me. When I look at you, I see someone who could have any girl in the world, but somehow you want me. It doesn’t make sense; I’m not good enough. But every time I look over and see you there, I believe a little more that maybe I am enough.”

— L.B.

[vomitingwords]

"I learned to hold my self longer than I wanted to." she said. "I've dealt with pain alone, so no one could use my wounds and scars against me."

Heartaches and Heartbeats// ma.c.a

[vomitingwords]

I killed

the part of me

that needs you,

in order to save

the rest of myself.

Before I lose it completely // ma.c.a

[500lettersforyou]

“I’m sorry.” He said.

He wasn’t.

She knew he wasn’t. But she knew that sometimes you have to let someone apologise so that they feel better. Even if you don’t.

Excerpt of a book I’ll never write.

[hbryleer]

Red trickling down

Like fine little streams running to a larger problem.

Dark, shiny, almost beautiful;

Or it would be, if it weren’t so tragic.

“So much potential,

Yet, such a disappointment.”

The words that brought me here.

I tried.

God, did I try.

But as I lie there thinking,

the only thought I could fathom was:

Red trickling down.

So now I sit,

A small, quick, sting

So much softer than the demons clawing my mind.

Seeing the color coming in small lines,

Like warriors lining for battle against the oppressor.

In this case,

The oppressor, nothing but my own thoughts..

The warriors, nothing but a silver life line, and red war paint.

So tell me again.

Tell me again how I am fine.

Tell me again how the fake smiles,

And stories of my “clumsiness”,

All account for the bandages and the tear stained blanket.

Because I am fine.

I am fine at lying to everyone.

I am fine at pretending to be perfect.

I am fine at drinking my misery, and cutting away the rest.

I am fine.

Just like those tiny little streams,

Running down my thigh.