My Life in Letters to You

captions for the images you left in my head
mariexvx:

masou-shoujo:

HAHAAHAAHAHAAA

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAH

YES PLEASE IN A FUCKING HEARTBEAT

mariexvx:

masou-shoujo:

HAHAAHAAHAHAAA

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAH

YES PLEASE IN A FUCKING HEARTBEAT

(via ssogoodinblue)

psych2go:

For more posts like these, go visit psych2go

Psych2go features various psychological findings and myths. In the future, psych2go attempts to include sources to posts for the for the purpose of generating discussions and commentaries. This will give readers a chance to critically examine psychology.

(via psych-facts)

(Source: terrysdiary, via rogueypie)

You Know the Ways

You know the ways
The ins and outs of my heart
And you still prefer to leave
To linger
Just above the surface
Near enough to touch
But not near enough
Not near enough so I
Can hear your heart when you
Kiss me
Touch me
In the dark.
You know the ways
How I think
When I am most vulnerable
But I am not weak
It’s only better this way when
I can’t feel a thing
So I can just feel
Your hands on mine
Your lips on mine
But I tend to forget
Until the storm brews inside me
And I want you beside me
Inside me
Because
What if I never stopped
What if I truly love you
And I didn’t know that this is the way
To love someone
Selflessly
Wholeheartedly
Maybe I was right all along
I loved you
And I was too blind to see
That you knew all the ways
To make me stay.

lordflacko91:

fuckpostshare:

likewildlife:

northernscuba:

roughsmut:

aheartsickfool:

naked-yogi:

yum

damn

Damn, indeed

Such an incredible feeling when a girl just starts too rub you through your pants.

When did this get too many notes?!

This is so fucking hot.

Had this happen in the movies to me and it ended well after we left

(via rogueypie)

What if you slept?

observando:

What if you slept
And what if
In your sleep
You dreamed
And what if
In your dream
You went to heaven
And there plucked a strange and beautiful flower
And what if
When you awoke
You had that flower in you hand
Ah, what then?”

― Samuel Taylor Coleridge

So delicate Flowergirls by Lim Zhi Wei / Love Limzy, Malaysian artist.

(Source: vraieronique, via rogueypie)

It was everything I ever dreamed of. And then I woke up.

(via ericpaz)

(via agirlwithunansweredquestions)

She spent the last two hours of her birthday sitting by the window, waiting for you to show up with your apology and flowers. Okay, maybe flowers are a long stretch. But she was waiting and she wasn’t surprised that you didn’t come.

The stars were hiding behind the clouds tonight and the silence was defeaning. The decision to move on a d close this chapter of the book was hanging over her like a rock. Crushing her, pushing her to the brink. She didn’t know what was next, she only hoped it would be better. Better than this. Better than anything she could have ever imagined. She just needed a little faith.

All I ever had were good intentions wrapped up in all this sorrow. And so I continue to write letters to those who have broken me, not really knowing if I would send them out. Such perfect handwriting through blurry eyes and a hand that’s tired of reaching out to closed doors. I don’t want to speak because I know not how to say the words. I’d rather talk to you the best way I know how—through writing letters.

It has always been a one way street with you, as with most. But I know now not to keep banging on your door or break it down. Because despite everything, despite all the words and the clues, you do not want to be found. You do not want to share the air I breathe. You do not want anything to do with me.

So I won’t because it’s not fair. To blame myself for whatever I did wrong, if I did anything wrong. I can give up and I will give up because sometimes that’s the best thing to do. Just give up.

I wish I could undo the past couple of years. I wish I could undo you sauntering into my life. But life is a one way street. And even if I wanted to undo things, I don’t regret them because that’s just who I am and I’m not apologizing for that. I’m not apologizing for being myself—whether I’m alarmingly reckless or gullible or sweet and angry and frustrated and lost all at the same time. I don’t need to apologize. Because I am enough and I do not need to be validated by you or anyone else. I am enough.