sngiorgi:

notimeforapologies:

BANKS - Brain

I love you, you perfect human.

kellyghost:

fuckyeah1990s:

Homeward Bound T-Shirt

Holy shit
"I want your Monday morning
sleep soaked eyes
dream drenched voice,
lazy bones
‘five more minutes please babe.’

I want your Tuesday afternoon
coffee break,
glasses off, laughter on
‘just hold me for a while
it’s been a hard day.’

I want your Wednesday evening
fingers through hair
teeth nibbling nails
neck craning, eye glazing
‘this paperwork never ends’

I want your Thursday night
drinks for two
bones unbind
muscles let loose
flats, slacks,
‘just me and you’

I want your finally Friday
stretch soul smile,
sun sipping light
from the glaciers in your eyes
fingers unfurl, hand extends
‘c’mon babe, lets go wild’

I want your weekend.
your movie marathon Saturday
reading by the fireplace
kissing in the blankets
want your Sunday morning
orange juice and pancakes
white sheets, tender skin
hair like the Fourth of July
‘let’s not get out of bed today.’

I want your ordinary
and your stress, rest, release
I want your bad day and that terrible night
I want you drunk in my arms
forgetting the place but never my name
I want your lazy and your lonely
and your fist full of fight
I want you everyday
in every way
for the rest of my life.

"


-(via xixiixii)

(Source: alfaazkibarsaaat)


twcflorkin:

supermoclel:

a brony called me unattractive

that’s

image

 right

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he

imagecalled

image

me

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ugly

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because i have hair on my legs

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you’re not unattractive at all, but to be fair you have some REALLY hairy legs.

systemofadowny:

heartoutofhand:

This is one of the most perfect pictures I have ever seen

I know right, look at that bed spread

(Source: greysgifs)

"

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

"


-

It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)

i’m in tears.

(via 410203)