(Source: artisasdfgh, via bl-ossomed)

"Everyone should smile. Life really isn’t that serious. We make it hard. The sun rises. The sun sets. We just tend to complicate the process."

Arian Foster (via bl-ossomed)

(Source: gq, via bl-ossomed)


Every time I write something about you 

I feel shame in being that sad, silly girl

so in love with you that all she can do is write poems 

and dream of your smile.

But sometimes, I think of all you are

and in that moment I adore being in love with you.

Even if I’m just a silly girl




i. i am wild poison ivy and you are a wooden house with broken window panes and walls too high to climb. you will let me in and i will wrap myself so tight around your bones trying to keep you together, but you will get tired of feeling me there every time you breathe.

ii. i am the songs you’ve learned to hear between uneasy breaths when i would tell you i loved you but i will turn into slurred words and ripped chords and you will finally realize that we’ve always been an off-tune melody.

iii. i am the aftermath of a storm clutching to your fingertips when you drag your hands along my skin like you are triggering a natural disaster and you will find it hard to live with dust and debris gathering mountains under your fingernails.

iv. i am gracelessly placed kisses that will turn into gusts of wind against your lips and you will never teach your mouth to embrace tornadoes and i guess that’s why you took off whenever it started to rain.


I wrote this a month before you left. // by rb (via rbcages)

(via rbcages)

"I never wanted any of this.
All I wanted, was you."


The vodka took my breath away, the way you used to when you would wrap one arm around my waist and brush my hair out of my face and kiss me so deeply like you may never kiss me again

The vodka burnt my throat, stinging through the lump I feel every time I see you with her, looking at her the way you never looked at me, promising her the world in your eyes that used to shine into mine.

The vodka made me sick, the type of nausea I felt when you took her in your arms and kissed her across the table from me, not noticing my heart breaking into a thousand pieces and shattering on the wooden deck.

The vodka made me fall, I tipped over gently and landed sitting up, not the way that I fell when you told me that you were choosing her, when I landed on my knees bent over, clutching my chest like maybe my hands could keep my heart from splintering and bursting out of my chest.

But they couldn’t.


the vodka hurt but you hurt worse (yourdestructivelove)  (via yourdestructivelove)


I. Don’t you dare let anyone in, don’t let anyone kiss your tired eyes, and wipe the tears off your face. You will end up with a bruised heart, and beaten lungs. He might say he can take on your problems, he might say he can handle it but he has no idea the trouble he is asking for. Trust your instincts.

II. He might smell like cigarette smoke and cologne and he might have small meaningful tattoos that make his eyes shine when he tells you how they came to be but don’t trust him. For the love of God don’t trust him

III. Don’t you dare cry in front of him. Don’t let him know you’re broken, don’t let him see your scars and for the love of God don’t let him read your poetry, because when he doesn’t get the metaphor you believed with all your soul was perfect your heart will crack down the middle.

IIII. If you decide to let him in, despite all i’ve told you, you will feel wonderful and free and light and clear you will be able to sing higher than you thought without your voice cracking and write poems without stopping the lines pouring beautifully out of your pen. You eyes will shine and you will not stop smiling, but he sure will stop loving you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.


4 steps to avoid getting your heart broken (that i know you will ignore)


(via let-me-breathe-deeply)





It gets better—the guy is deaf, and he taught his cat the sign for “food.” So the cat’s not just saying “put that in my mouth,” it’s actually signing

Not only that, but if you notice at the beginning, the cat *gets the man’s attention* as any person who wanted to talk to a deaf/hoh individual would (well, and vice versa IME). I’ve done sign since I was 5, and generally, w/o eye contact initially, you wave a hand or lightly touch the arm (if that’s ok with the person you’re trying to converse with, of course). 
Generally, adult cats meow mostly to humans, but this cat has figured out that’s not going to work and has adapted. Animal companions! They are INCREDIBLE.



(Source: needsmoarcat, via ic3cube)




*puts on sexy underwear but accepts the fact that no one will see it*

But knowing daddy bought them is good enough for me.


(via hotboyproblems)




8.8.14 //

i love this


(via ic3cube)


Cute things to call your girlfriend

1: honey
2: sweetie
3: sugar
4: we’re
5: going
6: down
7: swinging

(Source: pancakereport, via cigarettes-and-turtles)



(Source: drunk-milf)