It’s a Sunday. And I’m almost having to go to my mothers best friends house- how badly I want dope just still amazes me. My boyfriend thinks I’ve been sober for a little over a month.
In reality it’s been only about 2 weeks.
I don’t know how I’m going to manage to get his done.

"She was very beautiful, and also very terrifying, because suddenly you realized she was not of this place."

"At what point do you take girls out of school altogether because boys can’t handle it?"

Parent of a female teen whose school banned leggings (via marvelstorm)

(Source: meetingsinthedesert, via inhalant)

"Take a stick and shove it through my ribs,
make it hurt,
Thats the only way to ever fucking get through to me.

Take a rake and brush my hair,
until my roots are bleeding and
I can’t see anymore.

Kiss me and kiss me until you are too tired to breathe,
I feel like you are going to end up leaving me
I feel like you are going to end up leaving me

I am just like my father."

"Merry fucking Christmas you pieces of shit"  (via everythingisdistant)

(Source: actingbogus, via cracked--pulse)

"Nostalgia is a
dirty liar
that insists things
were better
than they seemed."

Michelle K., I Can’t Stop Questioning It.  (via jamesfrancozpenis)

(via cracked--pulse)

"I’m afraid I’ll never finish college. I’m afraid I’ll finish college with student loans I can never pay back. I’m afraid I’ll get a degree and won’t be able to find a job in that field. I’m afraid I’ll get a degree, get the job I dreamed of, and hate it."

A Mental Illness Happy Hour listener whose list of fears matches mine four for four. Glad I’m not the only one.
(via mcmexican)

(Source: insensiblenothingness, via cracked--pulse)

"I think you’ll find a girl who exhales answers instead of a never-ending stream of questions, one whose hands aren’t always ink-stained, one whose heart doesn’t live in her throat, one whose demons are small enough to be tucked into the back of her closet, sealed in a box, only let out once or twice a year when she’s drunk off of cheap wine, a girl who doesn’t feel like her head is going to explode every day, who doesn’t dream about the kitchen knives. You’ll find a girl who doesn’t write poems for you, but that’s okay because she smiles all the time and there is always light in her eyes, never a thunderstorm.
I will try not to blame you when you find this girl because now that I know what a horrible place my own mind is, I could never ask someone else to want to stay there too."

Fortesa Latifi,You’ll Find a Girl” (via madgirlf)

I was lucky to meet Fortesa at my show in Phoenix, she’s an amazing writer and a really nice person, and all of you should go check out her tumbr: (via clementinevonradics)

(via cracked--pulse)

"I remember the
rhythms in which your
fingers shook
lighting old cigarettes
I wondered if nicotine expires,
I wondered if love expires.
You told me I was a tornado
I was a head fuck,
wondering out loud if my heart
had a constant song
that only you could hear.
Don’t flatter yourself.
I think we smoked the whole pack,
my throat burned
my eyes burned
I couldn’t admit that I wanted you
until I was slurring
from stealing too many drinks
off of lips
I had no business kissing.
Don’t flatter yourself."

"I wonder if I have the words
“fuck up”
written across my forehead
in her exact shade of lipstick
dulled from kissing men I’ve loved.
I have exactly
twenty-three pills left,
even though I told you I threw them away
because I was stronger than my addiction.
I’m not quite sure what I am.
My arms shake like rattles
as fat fits grope for satisfaction,
preaching words
stuffed into your ears until you can’t hear
anything else.
I don’t hear anything else.
My mother tells me about her goals
she lost like the ripped receipts I keep
in the bottom of my purse,
I feel sad for all of boys she could have kissed
and all of the cities she could have loved.
We pour all of our wine
into two glasses and hope for the best."