She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.
me: *gets jealous*
If you ever feel bad just remeber there is a gif of me floating around tumblr of when I was 8 and I sat on the escalator and knocked down a table of jewelry at macys
I was 15 years old, laying on my bedroom floor, shaking and trying to shove my heart back into my chest after you told me you didn’t love me anymore and I’m covered in scars and there are still nights when I find myself trying to hold my bones together with bleeding hands and breathing gets hard but fuck, if I can survive you and the way you tore me apart I can survive anything.
why teenagers think we’re invincible (via extrasad