If Only I Were Pretty In The Way Girls Should Be Pretty.

am i girl blog shit posting now?

who knows~

when your mom gives you an oil that helped with her scars

and when your cousin has a semicolon tattooed on his forearm

you just can't help but wonder if you had known it all before

would you do it again?

jk guys we are so back

"its never over"-jeff buckley

it's selfish,

I know it is.

I apologized for it,

which I know means nothing.

yet I still pressed send,

for me not for you.

and I tell you that,

in typed out abbreviated words.

'so sorry chat',

like it fixes my cruelty.

I could've left well enough alone,

but who am I kidding.

my friends wonder why people vape,

when they know it's bad for them.

well why do they procrastinate writing essays?

why do we stay up late on school nights?

why do I scratch and scrape at my scared skin?

why did I press send on that damn message?

it's selfish,

self harm its in the name.

I apologized for it,

which I know means nothing.

I am so fucking sorry,

for all the wrong reasons.

for the first time ever i anticipate spring

i am getting used to short hair

i wonder will i ever get used to my scream

Reblog if you ARE a woman in STEM, SUPPORT women in STEM, or ARE STILL BITTER about Rosalind Franklin not getting credit for discovering the structure of DNA and the Nobel prize going to Watson and Crick instead.

to the girls singing please please please (sabrina carpenter) in the hollister dressing room at the mall

thank you for helping me stop and smile

the human spirit is indomitable and I needed a reminder to once again find love and hope even in the darkest corners of those dank as fuck changing rooms

Oh how I love the way people love. The fire filled passion dulling to the content flame of long lasting love. But even then the flame burns bright and hot as a dying star. Sometimes it even starts a wild fire. Spreading through unspoken words and the softest of kisses. Every day dream adding wood to the pile, every flirty glance keeping the flame tall and proud. Oh how I can't wait to experience the way people love. To be in love with someone, just two people working to keep their star from exploding into a nova of pain guilt and sorrow. I know some people aren't satisfied with satisfactory but oh I long to be satisfied. To grow old with my one my only and our flaming star burning as bright as the day we fell into that devastatingly dark pit. But until then I will write what I think love is and be laughed at by those who possess such bright beautiful stars.

The anger was just boiling up. I didn't know what to do with the excess water. It was overflowing the styrofoam cup and I needed to put it somewhere. I needed to throw something. I had to punch someone so hard it hurt me more than it ever hurt them. I grabbed my scalding cup and poured. A whispering drizzle ran down the hill side drilling into the dirt digging at the rocks breaking the dam of soil to bring forth a rushing river. Hurt yourself. I pounded my fist into my thigh. Hurt yourself. I scratched at my arm nails on a chalkboard. Hurt yourself. I didn't stop when I started bleeding. Hurt yourself. My skin was stuck under my nails. Hurt yourself. I was drowning head down in the deep waters so hot it was icy cold to the touch. Hurt yourself. I liked it. That hurt the most.

i wanted to be my firsts first and now ive lost the purity in me to something dirty and it makes me feel sick. i have nothing to repent for yet i have a need to fall to my knees and beg for something.