I considered suicide, but I felt a strange fondness for my body, my life. Scarred as they were, they were mine.
― Charles Bukowski, Ham on Rye (via fakinq-glory)
I am complicated.
half of my poems
are warning people not to get close to me
and the other half
are begging them to come near.
I am not simple.
I am not the kind of person you fall in love with.
Please, love me.
Amanda Helm (via fuckmentaldisorder)
My pain was never beautiful or poetic. It was answering the phone mid breakdown and laughing like I was fine.
― (via firemxtt)
I wish I hadn’t shown you the darkest parts of me.
― I Would Take it All Back (#616: July 21, 2014)

I am so sick of being sick of who I am.

― William Chapman (via boyirl)
And how odd it is
to be haunted by someone
that is still alive.
― I Guess the Old You is a Ghost (#589: June 25, 2014)