The Latest

4:09 AM//
I know you said we should see other people but I can’t fucking see anything but my ceiling. I haven’t gotten out of bed in 2 weeks. Fuck you. I’m done. Don’t call me back.

11:02 PM//
I want to kiss you again but I don’t think I can.

1:16 AM//
I’m drunk and I’m so sorry but I don’t think I love you. I mean… I probably love you but the way you look at me sometimes make my throat burn and I’m so tired of burning. I think I need someone who can put me out you know? Oh fuck.

12:02 AM//
I don’t care that you fucked her but did you really need to call me and tell me about it? Fuck off.

8:43 PM//
I thought you loved me. You thought I stopped filling bathtubs with my own blood. I guess we were both wrong.

9:19 AM//
It’s so fucked. I would’ve done anything for you and you ripped my heart out of my chest. Oh my fucking god I can’t believe I miss you. I’m deleting your number.

3:00 AM//
Jesus fuck your chest is empty.

11:49 PM//
That was cold. I guess I thought I meant more to you than that. I hope she makes you happy.

9:08 PM//
Did you take my cigarettes with you when you left? I’m changing the locks.

7:32 AM//
I haven’t slept and I hate you. I kissed him when you were drunk anyway. At least he doesn’t make my hands shake the way you always did.

3:18 Am//
Six months ago you drove to my house in the middle of a hurricane and you swerved your car off the road and ran the rest of the way. You were so drenched you had water pouring from your hair into your mouth so hard you could barely speak but you kissed me anyway and wiped away my tears even though your hands were too wet to do anything but drip more water down my cheeks. Now I can’t even get you to go see a fucking film with me. What happened to you?

2:14 AM//
I haven’t seen you in three weeks.

10:35 PM//
Your mother called. She was wondering who she saw with you in the backseat of your car. Fuck you.

11:37 PM//
I don’t think your parents like me. I’m sorry my skirt was too short. I’m sorry I trip over my words. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop touching your arm. I can’t do this.

5:08 AM//
I love you. I’m so sorry.

8:17 PM//
I found my favorite book in the trash. What’s your fucking problem?

10:39 PM//
It’s fine if you’re going to leave but please don’t take all of your old t-shirts with you. I need something to sleep in when things get bad. I still need you. Whatever.

4:51 AM//
I thought being with you would be better than being alone. Sorry.

4:18 PM//
Did you hide my fucking Xanax?

12:43 AM//
I never should’ve gotten so attached to you. I shouldn’t have let you in. God you’re my biggest regret and I’d do it all again. Please don’t try to come back. I’ll let you. And it’ll break me.

2:05 AM//
When I was little my father told me that if you cling to the sunshine you’ll end up on fire. You’re my sunshine. You’re my world. I’m burning alive…. Bye.

6:18 PM//
Don’t bother coming home.

2:54 PM//
You’re a terrible addiction. I’m trying to quit.

3:29 AM//
My high school English teacher told me that in a relationship one person always loves the other more and you should never be the one to love more. I love you so much I can feel my heart breaking every time I look at you. I know you don’t love me half as much because god if you did you’d be dead but you’re very much alive and staring at every pretty girl who passes you.

12:00 AM//
Sorry I couldn’t save you.

2:08 AM//
I want back my record player. And the past eight months of my life. I fucking hate you.

5:12 PM//
Answer your phone. I’m so sick of only hearing your voice on your voicemail. I can’t deal with this.

1:09 AM//
I still love you but you’re a fucking mess.

28 breakup voicemails  (via extrasad)

(via literallyrad)

Jul 21, 2014 / 13,747 notes
I wrote a poem about it, and then threw it away, because that’s the last thing I need right now: More words dedicated to people who will never dedicate a single thing to me.
Charlotte Green, You Say You Don’t Want A Boyfriend, But You Know That’s Not True (via krook)

(via itskelseee99)

Jul 21, 2014 / 43,794 notes

The things I write about you are not pretty.

For example: You are the ugly way I feel about Los Angeles, mouth a smear like sunset singed with citrus burns. Hollywood hill is a smashed pomegranate against your scorched teeth. All the stars walk the red carpet while I write sonnets to your mouth. It’s been too long since the last time we spoke, I’ve forgotten what everyone else looks like — your hands are trees made of smog, and they have taken root in my lungs. I wish this city would burn to the ground.

For example: The last time I fell in love, I broke all the dishes in the kitchen and bled out on the floor. You were not good for me. You held the bandaids, but I told you to put them back in the drawer. I loved being so broken for you — your heart was a hospital without the healing. My parents never taught me that being loved for your wounds was wrong.

For example: Tonight, I am falling asleep without you. I’ve had bad dreams ever since we met, things about dark-haired women that die because they never ran fast enough. I never ran fast enough. I’m still learning what it’s like not to find your face etched into the wood of my floorboards, and I’m failing miserably. You were not good for me.

For example: You were not good for me. You were California burning, and my lungs couldn’t take it. You were not good for me. You were a broken spine I couldn’t set; I was a scab you always picked. You were not good for me.

For example: Get out of my poetry, nobody wants to read about the ways we broke. Get out of my poetry, this isn’t about you anymore. This is about Los Angeles and how much I hate the sky. California wasn’t good for me — nothing about dying is pretty.

Burn Victim | d.a.s (via backshelfpoet)

(via sailingaugust)

Jul 21, 2014 / 588 notes
Jul 21, 2014 / 187,314 notes

trust:

do you ever want to just yell in someones face to date you

(via fake-mermaid)

Jul 20, 2014 / 110,163 notes

(via bl-ossomed)

Jul 19, 2014 / 367,354 notes

sidnugget:

I push everyone away but in a way I’m doing them a favor

(via cramp)

Jul 18, 2014 / 29,201 notes

kleinemi:

For whatever we lose
(a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves
we find in the sea.
 - E.E. Cummings

(via swimmingpoolforants)

Jul 18, 2014 / 41,173 notes

(via cramp)

Jul 17, 2014 / 251,984 notes

gypsums:

im just an asshole with feelings

(via fake-mermaid)

I want your stupid fucking sense of humour making me laugh at 4am when I have to be up at 6.
Jul 17, 2014 / 584,376 notes