(c)
christy.20

ddaughter:

i took this in the summer in ireland i love green
I’m a ghost
that everyone can see;
Franz Wright, from “Empty Stage,” in The Beforelife: Poems (Alfred A. Knopf, 2001)

(Source: apoetreflects)

Hell is when the people you love the most reach right into your soul and rip it out of you. And they do it because they can.
Jess Rothenberg, The Catastrophic History of You and Me

(Source: larmoyante)

I hope they ask about me & I hope you tell them you fucked up.
legalmeth:

ugh:

My mom’s friend has a daughter that’s in elementary school and today they had to write what they like about each other on a piece of paper and this is what a boy wrote to her.

☆ similar here ☆
sickpage:

Silvia SalaFog in Venice, 2012
The sun stopped shining for me is all. The whole story is: I am sad. I am sad all the time and the sadness is so heavy that I can’t get away from it. Not ever.
Nina LaCour, Hold Still

(Source: larmoyante)