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mooneyedandglowing:I really have no idea what you were expecting me to take away from that, or what I was expected to say to it. Like, was I supposed to say, that’s great? I’m happy for you? That’s not the right response, no. I don’t know the

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We're Out of Time

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We're Out of Time

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Blog: We're Out of Time











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original: https://illregretnothing.tumblr.com/post/179704597530

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mooneyedandglowing:be resolved to think of me what you will. + i will be sorry for such a foul picture of me in your mind that is partially in my control + partially out of it. 

mooneyedandglowing:be resolved to think of me what you will. + i will be sorry for such a foul picture of me in your mind that is partially in my control + partially out of it. 

relatablepoetryandquotes: “Believing something existed and then finding out it didn’t was like reaching the top of the stairs and thinking there was one more step.” - Francesca Zappia, Made You Up (via the-book-diaries)

relatablepoetryandquotes: “Believing something existed and then finding out it didn’t was like reaching the top of the stairs and thinking there was one more step.” - Francesca Zappia, Made You Up (via the-book-diaries)

The Loss of Poetry

The Loss of Poetry

inthereellife: nerdfighterwhatevernumbers: I don’t trust anyone who thinks the fear of predatory men is more of an issue than predatory men This is so accurate it hurts.

inthereellife: nerdfighterwhatevernumbers: I don’t trust anyone who thinks the fear of predatory men is more of an issue than predatory men This is so accurate it hurts.

The Loss of Poetry

The Loss of Poetry

“You ever get so depressed you can only feel pressure and despair, or nothing at all, maybe just agony”Every day. It’s Friday 9:47 PM and here I am, hours have passed, days await, my fucking broken heart, AM I RITE

“You ever get so depressed you can only feel pressure and despair, or nothing at all, maybe just agony”Every day. It’s Friday 9:47 PM and here I am, hours have passed, days await, my fucking broken heart, AM I RITE

Sitting Outside at the End of Autumn

Sitting Outside at the End of Autumn

The Loss of Poetry

The Loss of Poetry

The Loss of Poetry

The Loss of Poetry

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