mary juana

account dedicated to the weed

[holmyhan]

I would sit in a parking lot with you at 2am

[thethither]

[nymphoninjas]

thethither

[fuckyeahrudyfrancisco]

I’m still learning to love the parts of me that no one claps for.

Rudy Francisco (via splitterherzen)

[joyandpoison-deactivated2023071]

[wellthenfuckyouover]

Rainy days are my favorite

[cerejeiro]

[ucctct]

[kushandwizdom]

If you gotta force it, just leave it alone. Relationships, friendships, ponytails.. Just leave it.

Reyna Biddy (via kushandwizdom)

[uponcomets-deactivated20140109]

[neurotransmittor]

1. don’t open the medicine cabinet. don’t take inventory of your options don’t break your insides on the hundreds of eggshell blue pills or a bottle of scarlet cough syrup as sweet as blood as hard to swallow 2. don’t go for a drive alone to feel the dry air the trees beyond the road are calling for you your eyes will wander your hands will wander it’s dark it’s easy it’s fast fast fast and it will stop the screaming 3. don’t pretend you weren’t just throwing up the insides of your mind you weren’t just crying until your lungs burst open there’s nothing left to do except clean the blood off your shirt off the pale sink yellow in the light of your sickness 4. don’t forget the last time you thought your heart was melting your skin was ripping your bones were sore and you stayed in bed for five days until your veins felt full of fire you choked on the smoke and got up again 5. get up again

g.c. on what to do when you feel like killing yourself (via doodles-by-grace)

[unchartedgrounds-deactivated201]

[tuave]

[haverthorn]

every poem breaks a silence that had to be overcome

Adrienne Rich from Someone is Writing a Poem (1993)

[ocevns]

[trigs-tattoo]

[jusst-another-lesbian-blog]

When you want to date someone for the simple things, like holding their hand while you drive or their head resting on your shoulder as you feel them slowly falling sleep - that’s when you know you’re fucked.

my insides. (via jusst-another-lesbian-blog)

[ofveins]

There is a shipwreck between your ribs and it took eighteen years for me to understand how to understand your kind of drowning. There are people who cannot be held quietly. There are screams that are never externalized. If I looked at the photo albums of your past twenty years, all I would find are decibel meter graphs of phone calls and the intensity of your silence as you sat smoking cigarettes in the garage. There is a shipwreck between your ribs. You are a box with fragile written on it, and so many people have not handled you with care. And for the first time, I understand that I will never know how to apologize for being one of them.

Shinji Moon, What It Took To Understand (via cactuslungs)