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"Maybe there's a chance that one day you would be mine

But right now, I'm just broken inside."

Tate McRae - One Day

My mind, A whirling washing machine, Leaves stains in all the clothes, Tinting them the color of Coffee stains; Wears out the fabric, Tearing uneven holes; And leaves the clothes Soggy and bunched up, Waiting to be hung Out to dry.

meaningless–poetry (via thesocietyofpoets)

How am I supposed to trust again when you’ve shattered me into a thousand pieces and taken half of them with you?

titled “I don’t know its 12 am and I have school tomorrow”  submission #431 (via 10secondstosayitall)

Odio como pienso

Odio como actuó

Odio mi cuerpo

Odio ser tan débil

Odio que todo esto me importe

@toxicalert

En este perfil nos ilusionamos a lo pendejo.

“And certain things around us will change, become easier or harder, one thing or the other, but nothing will ever really be any different. I believe that. We have made our decisions, our lives have been set in motion, and they will go on and on until they stop. But if that is true, then what? I mean, what if you believe that, but you keep it covered up, until one day something happens that should change something, but then you see nothing is going to change after all. What then? Meanwhile, the people around you continue to talk and act as if you were the same person as yesterday, or last night, or five minutes before, but you are really undergoing a crisis, your heart feels damaged…” - Raymond Carver, Short Cuts

Quizás si fuera más linda te fijarías en mi...

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