Did I, uh–did I say something wrong? I’m getting a vibe like I just made a really bad first impression.

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@esmeshappypills
Did I, uh–did I say something wrong? I’m getting a vibe like I just made a really bad first impression.
what should my next mistake be
Here I am with a mind like a loaded gun and scar tissue for a heart.
Midnight Excerpts #45 // L.H.Z (via lhzthepoet)
and that was the thing about her, she kept on surviving. with bullet holes in her lungs, and knife marks etched in her back. she never let anything get in her way, resilient. a fighter, not by choice. but a warrior at heart.
k. azizian (via wnq-writers)
if they pronounce your name like a curse then you may as well teach their mouths how to taste a growing hell
Scherezade Siobhan© (via weaverofstars)
i don’t know if it’s been done but how about the complete fuckboy who is so used to routine. he picks up who he wants, it’ll be easy and if he’s lucky they’ll put up a challenge but they end up in the alley or in the men’s room and he always has the courtesy of kissing them goodbye and never seeing them again. and it’s like every saturday, he’s at the bar and he spots a pretty girl and she looks the perfect amount of innocent (he’s not up for a challenge tonight) but theres a bit of banter going and eventually she ends up in the backseat of his Jeep and when they’re done he’s leans in with a grin, memorised almost like a catchphrase, “thanks for the great sex babe” to kiss her goodbye but she turns her cheek at the last minute, offers him a sweet smile “cute. that was great sex for you?” and just like that the fuck boy’s been fucked and she’s smoothing her skirt down and disappearing out of the backseat and he needs to find her again, needs to prove her wrong and it’s almost obsessive the way he needs her and suddenly hes just like one of the many girls that chase after him following a mediocre one night stand.
she’s the girl with a fairytale face but her mouth screams like a wolf’s
words of the consultant, minjeong son (via captwrites)
Dance, when you’re broken open. Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you’re perfectly free.
Rumi (via thedancefeed)
I’m not too gone to be healed, am I? I’m not too gone am I?
Alice Notley, from In The Pines: Poems; “In The Pines,” (via violentwavesofemotion)
behold, the florist.