Boys cry
Cigarettes do kill,
parents lie,
boats sink,
flowers die,
Life goes on,
with or without you. —sad facts that come along with existing (via cosmicwording)

I’m so tired of trying to hold it together,
I know I’m never going to get better,
Just let me sink into this cemetery weather.

My lips taste like nicotine kisses,
taste like girls that shake with adderall addictions, taste like
boys that come with their fists
already forming bruises, taste like
death has been frenching me
since before i was sixteen

'cause I can't remember the last time
I felt anything but numb
oh god oh god I just want to be

Cemetery Weather (Noun): When the only sound in your ribs is a death rattle. /// A collaboration between chasingavenues and inkskinned. (via inkskinned)

"I’m scared of who I’m becoming. I’m slowly losing myself. I’m out of control and that terrifies me more than anything." (r.i.d)

Something inside is hurting you – that’s why you need cigarettes or whiskey, or music turned so fucking loud you can’t think. —(via skydazed)
I messed up, I know. I always do. —(via emmiinwonderland)
Thinking about ‘what could’ve been’ is an unnecessary thought. What could’ve been didn’t happen, what happened is what happened and that’s it. —(via lovelykreatures)


I think part of the reason im so into bands and shows and movies and books is because i rather just fill myself with those things than admit that im really lonely and not happy and want to cry most of the time.