Amandaaholic - Rae Of Sunshine

Still learning.

Goodbyes

My parents told me when I moved out That this city is gonna kill me But I never listen to the ones that know better And I ran away with my sweater and a temper

I learned to live with smoky rooms and cheap perfume And the life left my eyes young and too soon I started spinning out at the steering wheel On your arm and around my head With whispers telling me I’m better off dead

I took lessons off the streets to these four walls I took your love for granted, but I took more than that And I started dipping my wrist but forgot to mention That there were never any bad intentions From the start but my insanity Got the best of me

Think I might have had one too many potions Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jack Ass took another shot at me But I blame myself for these crooked impulses

I wish instead of spitting this rhyme I could travel back in time I wish I could hold you one last time Kiss you again, stare into those deep, brown eyes

It’s clear that something’s gotta give But I’ll give everything to replace what I took And my last words to you just so you know I’ll always love you more than anything, and it’s clear I have to go

Written Feb. 16 2015

dreaming of curly hair and shaky knees 💋

i’ve been having a really rough time lately and people only pick up pieces of what’s going on no one ever knows the whole story so how can anyone expect to write an ending for me how can anyone expect to help how can i expect these cigarettes to keep burning before my own hand is on fire how can i catch my breath when all i breathe is smoke and toxins and filth coming out of your mouth and into my gut seeping down into the black void that seems to have a lot more going on that my heart these days these days have been a little more rough a little more tough tumbling down with no hope up

#NowPlaying Recover - Cid Rim Remix by CHVRCHES

Spotify could become a dating app where it matches you with a person who listens to the same songs as you.

The phone screen is the lamp… and we are all moths.

Blunts.

Blunts or joints?

I Have A Dream...

And that is to trip balls with someone/some people and tie-dye the shit out of some clothes, paint on whatever we call a canvas, write poems and songs and sing-alongs, just turn into Andy Warhol faries and creatures of the night. Let's get creative, people.

she is my little ball of sunshine. Lucy