Sidney

wildflower mind, hurricane heart

[destroymylife]

[destroymylife]

[eliminated]

[recaption]

[sci-universe]

[liberdade3s]

[boadata]

alexander mcqueen aw1996 

[delta-breezes]

Michael | @michaelkagerer⁣ 

[expressions-of-nature]

by feelcolours

[niemiloscc]

[amandabusco]

[modering]

[thervnandg0]

i wish that i could write a song, but i never learned the language of music. i was ripped away from it too soon.

i wish that i could write a song, but i can barely write a poem.

there's no rhyme or reason, im just sad. i am just sad and filled with thoughts that manage to flow in a way that's almost beautiful.

almost beautiful. but maybe it's just so ugly and broken that people enjoy it out of pity, like me.

who else is going to love this sad, shitty mess but you?

i wish that i could write a song, but everything is wrong. everything is off.

if I'm compared to a shitty indie band one more time, i might just fucking explode. they used to be my favorite.

you ruined it. you ruined everything.

my heart is fucking shattered like eggshells spread around me. no one can get close anymore without getting hurt.

it's your fault. it's your fault i cant write a fucking song.

[thervnandg0]

I thought I knew who I was

so I moved too fast and I don't know where I am

I don't know who I am. I exist as them.

And they are perfect. Straight out of a movie scene.

They taste of honey and oranges.

They smell of white tea, lavendar, and fall.

Their messy hair falls in curls around their soft, blushed cheeks.

They speak with ease, but others trip over their words.

Their breaths, rising and falling like waves against the shore.

They furrow their brow with intent and they sound like florescent lights and acoustic guitars.

They seem so easy to fall in love with, but there's a dark overtaking.

Creeping in like mice over wooden floors and falling like blood over porcelain

There's an emptiness, a lacking

You can't expect to find love at two in the morning in a cemetery

and you can't face God in an empty parking lot at sunset with a redbull in your hand

and you can't destroy the patriarchy when you spend all of your time high and in bed

I just wanna be the one who inspires all of your art.

[thervnandg0]

I’m the world’s Delia. I’m the world’s Alaska Young and Margo Roth Spiegelman. I’m Amiee, and Jude, and Sadie. I’m your Violet Markley and your Riley Cavanaugh. I’ve been given the ass end of this Earth, passed down from centuries ago, but you think it’s a quirk. I chainsmoke and drive fast and fuck hard because I want to, not because death is never certain. You think. I don’t look at the stars and the sunsets and water and Christmas lights and fireworks and flowers because they’re pretty and they make me happy, damn it. I look at them because they’re so fucking sad. They make me feel less alone. Please, stop romanticizing my brokenness because what you thought was just a pink haired girl in a Nirvana shirt jumping into a bubbling river at dusk was really the human embodiment of a natural disaster. I know, I’m “getting better”, but this is who I am, okay? I am a wreck and I spent my life loving it, but life is short, okay? I’m miserable but I’m happy that I’m somebody’s manic pixie dream girl for as long as this lasts. Hopefully it’s not long. I beg to whatever God there is, that it isn’t long. Everything is temporary, so don’t let me - this - be the exception. No, just because I read books about suicide doesn’t mean I’m suicidal. Yes, I know I’m quiet and smart and in pain, but I promise I’m not showing up to school tomorrow with a gun because that’s not how this story, The Universe, was written out in some twisted John Green God fucker’s head. I never realize how badly hurt I am until I start reading and writing again, and maybe that’s why I stop. I want to feign happiness until it’s over just like the girls I try to be, but please, for the love of God, don’t worry about me. I’m fine, really, I promise.

[extramadness]

[vaguereply]