What I shouldnt tell you.

Madison. majors: Forensic Science and criminal justice. Im to young to be as unhappy as I am.

Today is a day that I am
hopelessly, endlessly, madly
in love with life.

The wind is alive with whispers
of spring, and warmth and hope
and for today, I am whole
again.

—   i live today, cydney c. (via cydneywrites)

(via thetalltwig)

“I’m a moth burned by
A flame while trying to prove
I am worth your time.”

—   Haiku (4/30)  (via latenightscribbles)

(via thetalltwig)

“You’re not in love with me, not really, you just love the way I always made you feel. Like you were the center of my world. Because you were. I would have done anything for you.”

—   Abby McDonald, Getting Over Garrett Delaney (via mareinfinitum)

(Source: mathsdebater, via thewriternetwork)

“I will swallow you whole and you will sink into me,
the same way the blazing sunset gives in to the sea.
I call myself a warrior and my battle scars glory wounds.
I am not afraid.
Not anymore.”

—   Like the Sea; Alahna Sy (via fauxpoet)

(via thewriternetwork)

“Sometimes I think I’m okay and then I’m not. It’s a vicious cycle of temporal relief and deep-rooted woe and I’m so tired of not feeling something that actually lasts long enough for me to miss it when it finally goes away. Nothing ever lingers and no one ever stays. I just need something that would last the year. But look,

my heart is still beating.”

—   I’m Not as Weak as You Think I Am; Alahna Sy (via fauxpoet)

(via thewriternetwork)

writershigh:

Hearts On Fire
I write about hearts and fire and the two of them together quite a bit, but I like this one best

writershigh:

Hearts On Fire

I write about hearts and fire and the two of them together quite a bit, but I like this one best

(via thewriternetwork)

writershigh:

The Break Up
I think you’ll always be something I write about.

writershigh:

The Break Up

I think you’ll always be something I write about.

(via thewriternetwork)

guiltywriter:

I’ll always see my eyes as clouded. 

guiltywriter:

I’ll always see my eyes as clouded. 

(via thewriternetwork)

When Men Try to Find Me, All I Do is Disappear

writingsforwinter:

I am one-third ghost, two-thirds frayed heart with rough edges.

Inside my house, beneath the bed, a shoebox filled with apology letters

for all the times I fled after sex without leaving a thank you note.

Leave my eyes open during kissing, but when he uncloses his,