for those who have heart
Im probably gunna end up on the streets today. And idk what to do. I xant get back into a gang i worked so hard to leave. Im a different persob now but noone sees that or cares.
Id do anything to get you back…
is that a butthole im so confused
yeah 6 is a butthole
I bet ur parents tell u that you’re unique and creative when u cry
(Source: meanplastic, via 42h0e)
I feel broken….
Im slowly watching myself dissovle to nothing but a gray lifeless corpse and oddly im okay with that.
So what if i cant forget you ill burn your nam into my throat ill be the fire that will catch you whats so good about pickin up the pieces wht if i dont even want to?
(Source: inkskinned, via tautoou)
Your journal, by me.
I don’t know why but this made me cry
I’m actually sobbing now this is so sad and beautiful
I’m crying holy shit tony, pure fucking talent
Your muscles have a certain memory about them. That’s why we can tie our own shoes or play piano without looking. But when you spend a long enough time with someone your bodies memorize each other you know? The warmth of your back, the pace of your heartbeat, your tickly eyelashes. And the way your fingers would curl in sequence when I used to play with your palm. Another person is like moving to a new country where you don’t know the language. It’s a scary thing.
Josh Beattie (via cybergirlfriend)
(Source: talaska, via tautoou)
i’m not cut out for this.
(Source: extrasad, via tautoou)
Music is my life.
I play guitar, piano, trumpet, trombone, flute, bass, drums, and clarinet.
my blog tends to be real bi-polar.