And when you're done you can discard me like the others always do
And I will nurse my wounds until another artist stains me new
@tiredandlonelymuse
RMH
Claire Keane
Sade Olutola

Kaledo Art
No title available

if i look back, i am lost
Xuebing Du

ellievsbear
we're not kids anymore.
i don't do bad sauce passes

Origami Around

★
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
DEAR READER

PR's Tumblrdome
wallacepolsom
Misplaced Lens Cap
Monterey Bay Aquarium

titsay
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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@xsouthbound
And when you're done you can discard me like the others always do
And I will nurse my wounds until another artist stains me new
@tiredandlonelymuse
dm for promos
Lichen and blooms
Elsa Bleda
Sounds perfect to me.
Just to feel something. I didn’t want them. I just wanted to hurt.
…but I tore it apart and I guess thats just something I have to live with now.
- zeier (2015)
Marilyn photographed by Philippe Halsman, 1949.
Continued..
Remember the time we were hanging out in a friends room with what felt like 20 people, I asked you if we could go because I was feeling super anxious? You said no but I couldn’t handle it and ran outside and stood in the cold until you came out, yelled at me to get in the truck and sped down the side street to take me home. You told me to call you when I calmed down. My mom had to hold me down for 10 minutes during my panic attack.
Remember the night we picked up my best friend and went to your house for a party? I left her downstairs with 30 random people neither of us knew so you could go deal. Then you drove us home, completely wasted. My best friend was pregnant at the time.
Remember my 17th birthday? I wanted to spend it with you. You wanted to go do drugs. That was the start of me hating my birthday.
Remember when it was your ex’s birthday and you called her while laying next to me in my bed?
Remember when my mom was rushed to the hospital in the early morning because she was hemorrhaging and I was terrified and all I wanted to do was talk to you? You asked me if I wanted to do ecstasy with you that night.
Remember when I’d lay on my floor for hours on end in the middle of the night listening to music and crying?
Remember when I would tell you I did certain things to try to impress you?
Remember when my sisters teacher pulled me aside to tell me that her and my brother in law were worried about me and that they knew you weren’t good? I went home and yelled at my mom because how dare my sister butt into my life.
Remember when I’d tell you that you couldn’t come over and you’d say you were drunk and had nowhere to go so you were driving around? In my mind, it was better for you to be with me, doing what you wanted, than to be driving.
Remember when I’d tell you that you couldn’t come over and you’d say you had a gun to your head?
Remember when I was at the bottom and I couldn’t go any further? I spent every waking moment wishing I was dead. Hating myself for letting this happen.