So. I get to make my boyfriend look like a zombie this weekend. Kind of excited.
Anyways! I'm going as Cheshire cat. What's everyone else going as???
Friends 'till past the end.When all else fails,Friends 'till past the end. by ~Soulofthenight663
I'll be your success.
When everyone runs,
I'll be standing tall.
When you're tired,
I'll let you rest.
When you need to cry,
I'll wipe your tears.
When you're sad,
I'll coax your smile out of hiding.
When you break,
I'll be the one holding you together.
When you're thirsty,
I'll be the rain.
When you're cold,
I'll be the sun.
And when everyone else is gone,
I swear on my life I'll stand by you.
What does it mean to be close?
It means everything you hold dear is right next to you.
Everything they say, hurtful or not, can find a place in your heart.
Every memory with those people can bring a smile.
Bad memories or good
sorryguysI know that I already posted a text post venting out my feels and whatnot, but as of recently being triggered by something I really need some input or atleast something, opinions I guess. So a few months ago (I'm not sure how long ago it was not, I haven't been keeping track due to not really wanting to think about it) a friend who I used to be friends with had sexually assaulted me in the broken down statement.sorryguys by =Agent-Birdy
When I acted out the day after and told both my mom and a friend in hope of some peace of mind or anything, advice, whatever I don't know I was in shock; I felt completely ignored and that they weren't taking me seriously in the least. While I'm still sitting here feeling a rush of anxiety and panic whenever any pressure is placed on my bed while I'm lying down, or if anyone touches my neck when I can't see their face, or my stomach, I can't even glance at or have my skin brush my chest shirt or not without getting that overwhelming fear; leaving m
truth is, I don't wanna love you.Is it really fear?truth is, I don't wanna love you. by ~EmaciatedandEpitaphs
Till my blood runs silver, pure mercury.
I know little of coherency.
Today feels like chalk and phlegm and pheromones.
I remain a retching mound of meat.
An undulating mass of muscles and organs.
When I thought of you I thought of flesh.
Sensation and numbness,
breathing while holding my breath
alive but always dead
I saw red, maraschino streaks.
Lines of flamingo pink creased across the surface.
Then I thought of flesh and blood and feeling
and for a second,
I couldn't hate you.
Is this fear?