“One day I’ll wake up and be glad I did”
– Something I have to keep reminding myself (via satanss-mistress)
I read somewhere that drugs kill you slowly,
almost romantically, like they care about you.
And oh baby you should have known better than to love someone
who bites where they’re supposed to kiss,
and pushes where they’re supposed to pull closer.
When his hands touched your face for the first time,
you should have listened to your mother when she told you
that the devil had pretty eyes and soft skin and looked a lot
like a boy who kissed you like
he might eventually love you.
You will only learn about the dangers of loving a boy”
who was so intoxicating,
he would only love you back in small doses;
while you are injecting him
straight into your bloodstream.
– "He broke me." by r.b (via rbcages)
my mother told me that you can’t cure depression;
that taking pills wouldn’t fix me,
and taking six instead of the prescribed two definitely wasn’t going to speed up the process.
but i met a boy who tasted better than prozac.
he made it easier to be out of bed.
he kissed me like i was alive,
like i wasn’t empty,
like maybe there was something left inside of me.
he made my bones ache less when he touched me.
he made it okay.
when my world was crashing down around me,
he picked up all the pieces.
when i stopped breathing and tried to tear open my wrists to find the last little bits of happiness left in my veins,
he was there to lace me back together.
but he left.
i haven’t slept in three days.
my mother was right.”
– Unknown (via notjustinmyhead)