fu ck i cry at the end of a league of their own eVERY FUCKING TIME
It takes everything I have to pretend I’m fine. To put this smile on my face like everything I have ever known in my life isn’t about to be ripped to shreds. I’m an ass 99% of the time, and I don’t know what else to do. I want this guilt that eats away at me to quit for one damn night. I want to breathe and it not be affected by words and thoughts of what else is expected of me or what else will make other people happy. I’m just tired. I’m sorry. That’s all I have left. It seems all there seems to be is take, take, take and I don’t have much else for you. There’s not a whole lot of who I used to be left.
I let out a melodramatic sigh and roll my eyes at myself and my constant stream of overly-analytical poetic thoughts. I stare at the picture for a few seconds, reluctantly pick up a green crayon off the table, and slowly begin adding color to the blank page.
|—||An excerpt from Caged Boy Sings: the movie extravaganza. Or maybe I meant to say book. You’ll find out soon enough, but either way, it’s coming soon. (via cagedboysings)|
I really think that there is some injustice in this world that he has not been the sexiest man alive… Or at least nominated!
You won’t be able to see it, but you’ll feel it every day for the rest of your lives. It’ll be a kind of a darkness around your heart.
How unfaithful man started praying. How an angel lost his wings trying to fix the world. How a boy went too far, with nothing but good intentions.
I’m Not Angry Anymore // Paramore
I’m not angry anymore,
Well, sometimes I am.
I don’t think badly of you,
Well, sometimes I do…
And I know you left because I was too heavy of a burden.
Because I tried to find a savior in the body of a boy with a hungry mouth,
Who didn’t understand fractured things.
I’m sorry I thought you could carry this weight on your shoulders;
I’m sorry this bed is half-empty.
|—||Emily Palermo, Half-Empty (via s-0-m-e-o-f-t-h-e-s-e-d-a-y-s)|
Sometimes your world cracks. Bleeds. You’ll have red rivers running through your pale sand and tearful rain falling from your cloudy eyes. But the magic on life is that we heal. Our bodies will mend. The cracks will seal. The bleeding will slow. The rivers will heal over and leave peaceful scars….