these little whispers;

Love, I have not known your name.
I’m lost.
Consistently lost.
I find myself digging my fortress of solitude deeper and deeper down every day. Further still even though I hate this lonesome empty feeling I have.
Cut people down. Cut them off. Sever all ties. Hide. Burry my face in the sadistic and masochistic bliss of knowing people stop caring. Stop calling.
If so, only to call me out on said actions and I cower within myself speaking no words, showing no emotion, i am a shell. Screaming on the inside, begging, pleading, yet so quiet outside.
I am sorry. So very sorry for every word I refused to utter.
I am sorry, so fucking sorry that I miss you. And only you. Because it always comes back to you.
Because you ache like I ache.
Your stomach twists as mine does.
And I know this because I feel it. I see it. In your eyes.
It’s sickening and comforting. Knowing I’m not alone yet by every definition I am.
As I should be.
Undeserving of something beautiful and valid.
Why would I expect anything more than this?
Hate me. Hate me for I am sick.

Amen to that.

Amen to that.

you'd be so much prettier if you tried. at least you have a nice body
Anonymous

If I.. Tried? And whom on earth should I have to “try” for? This is who I am. This is the best you fucking get.

deadsymmetry:

Belenyi Szabolcs, “Portrait”,oil on canvas, 2011, 22 x 19 cm
deadsymmetry:

Andrew Salgado, The Deafening, Oil on canvas, 64x50”
deadsymmetry:

Harald Plattner

deadsymmetry:

Harald Plattner

It’s been a long time.. It’s been a while. 
I’m so different today than yesterday. I am so different tomorrow than that of today. 
Things are changing. Mentally, emotionally, physically. 
Things went from routine and dull to beautiful and inspiring for a near three days, now I feel like they’re returning to as before. 
It’s funny what a new person and change of air can do to your interpretation of the world surrounding you..

It’s been a long time.. It’s been a while.
I’m so different today than yesterday. I am so different tomorrow than that of today.
Things are changing. Mentally, emotionally, physically.
Things went from routine and dull to beautiful and inspiring for a near three days, now I feel like they’re returning to as before.
It’s funny what a new person and change of air can do to your interpretation of the world surrounding you..

abreedoffossils:

I’d totally wear this….but really I’m not kidding.

When your mother hits you, do not strike back. When the boys call asking your cup size, say A, hang up. When he says you give him blue balls, say you’re welcome. When a girl with thick black curls who smells like bubble gum stops you in a stairwell to ask if you’re a boy, explain that you keep your hair short so she won’t have anything to grab when you head-butt her. Then head-butt her. When a guidance counselor teases you for handed-down jeans, do not turn red. When you have sex for the second time and there is no condom, do not convince yourself that screwing between layers of underwear will soak up the semen. When your geometry teacher posts a banner reading: “Learn math or go home and learn how to be a Momma,” do not take your first feminist stand by leaving the classroom. When the boy you have a crush on is sent to detention, go home. When your mother hits you, do not strike back. When the boy with the blue mohawk swallows your heart and opens his wrists, hide the knives, bleach the bathtub, pour out the vodka. Every time. When the skinhead girls jump you in the bathroom stall, swing, curse, kick, do not turn red. When a boy you think you love delivers the first black eye, use a screw driver, a beer bottle, your two good hands. When your father locks the door, break the window. When a college professor writes you poetry and whispers about your tight little ass, do not take it as a compliment, do not wait, call the Dean, call his wife. When a boy with good manners and a thirst for Budweiser proposes, say no. When your mother hits you, do not strike back. When the boys tell you how good you smell, do not doubt them, do not turn red. When your brother tells you he is gay, pretend you already know. When the girl on the subway curses you because your tee shirt reads: “I fucked your boyfriend,” assure her that it is not true. When your dog pees the rug, kiss her, apologize for being late. When he refuses to stay the night because you lived in Jersey City, do not move. When he refuses to stay the night because you live in Harlem, do not move. When he refuses to stay the night because your air conditioner is broken, leave him. When he refuses to keep a toothbrush at your apartment, leave him. When you find the toothbrush you keep at his apartment hidden in the closet, leave him. Do not regret this. Do not turn red. When your mother hits you, do not strike back.

“Unsolicited Advice to Adolescent Girls With Crooked Teeth and Pink Hair,” Jeanann Verlee 

I will never not reblog this.

(via feministpizza)