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"It’s the oldest story in the world. One day you’re seventeen, and planning for someday and then quietly and without you even noticing, someday is today, and that someday is yesterday, and this is your life."- Nathan Scott

come over. talk to me. hold me. listen to me complain. listen to me scream. comfort me while I cry. make me laugh. distract me. tell me what I can do. just don’t be the one to judge me like everyone else.

edisstrummingonmyheartstrings:

I reblog this every single time it comes across my dash.

edisstrummingonmyheartstrings:

I reblog this every single time it comes across my dash.

ionicsky:


extrasad:

Fuck. It’s ironic how empty I am because 
I swear 6 months ago I had the universe inside
of me but I cried the rivers in my bones dry.
The volcanoes in my chest erupted when you told
me you didn’t love me anymore and lava flooded
my body and hardened till I stopped sleeping.
I had stars in my lungs but I burned them
all out with the cigarettes I was smoking
to get you the fuck out of my throat. The
flowers growing at the bottoms of my 
stomach are dead. Apparently you  
can’t water flowers with vodka.
I had the sky in my veins but it’s
been pretty fucking stormy since I
ripped them open. I had planets 
on the tip of my tongue but
the debris from the shattered 
remains of “us” have been
crashing into them. I was
everything. And then I met
you and we were everything.
Now you’re fucking some
blonde girl who gets
high all the time and
I’m a fucking
mess.

this is my favorite fucking poem ever ever ever

ionicsky:

extrasad:

Fuck. It’s ironic how empty I am because 

I swear 6 months ago I had the universe inside

of me but I cried the rivers in my bones dry.

The volcanoes in my chest erupted when you told

me you didn’t love me anymore and lava flooded

my body and hardened till I stopped sleeping.

I had stars in my lungs but I burned them

all out with the cigarettes I was smoking

to get you the fuck out of my throat. The

flowers growing at the bottoms of my

stomach are dead. Apparently you  

can’t water flowers with vodka.

I had the sky in my veins but it’s

been pretty fucking stormy since I

ripped them open. I had planets 

on the tip of my tongue but

the debris from the shattered 

remains of “us” have been

crashing into them. I was

everything. And then I met

you and we were everything.

Now you’re fucking some

blonde girl who gets

high all the time and

I’m a fucking

mess.

this is my favorite fucking poem ever ever ever