allo-frouto:

shadowseductress:

Fuck sex. I am tryna be your home, your safe place, your go to person, the reason your mental health is getting better.

We still gonna have rough sex tho.

all I wanna be

ifeltfree:

one of my students just spilled an entire green slurpee on the carpet and i had to get on my hands and knees with a scrub brush like cinderella and clean it up

philosophybits:

“The unemployed and the starving do not lay claim to truth. They do not say they represent the truth because they are the truth in their very being.”

— Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth

latibule-e-deactivated20231012:

— Kim Visda, from “For Lack Of A Better Poem.”

mclennonyaoi:

you ever know someone and you think “god i love you. i wish we could’ve known eachother when we were carefree and 11. i wish we could’ve played together as kids”

jincheeto:

He is chubby and you can’t convince me otherwise

jumping-jackalope:

babygirl i have pdfs that even i don’t know about

valentina-poem:

thelifelessgirl:

Everyone gets tired of me at some point. Then eventually they’ll leave. They all do.

cantsleephomesick:

losing myself

im starting to lose it again

overgrown fingernails

knotted hair

dry skin

and eye bags

im starting to lose it again

days blending into one

small appetite

no sleep

im starting to lose me again

what do i tell my psychiatrist?

would she see through me?

im starting to lose me again

what the fuck

pull yourself together

we cant go down again

im starting to lose myself again

im so sorry

tenderheart444:

tired of being casual. who will die for me

septemberkisses:

— Carol Rifka Brunt in Tell The Wolves I’m Home

997:

this cannot continue
*continues*