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1hey:

it hurt when I stumbled across her.
she was like broken glass all along the floor.
but it was beautiful and my curiosity got the best of me.
I remember looking at her and all I could see was pain.
she had this insane look of desperation; you could almost feel it.
and yet her eyes were still hollow; like the life had been sucked out of her.
I wanted to pick up her pieces.
I wanted to put her back together.
and so I tried. I really did.
I got a little cut along the way.
the more I tried to fix her the more fragile I became myself but I didn’t care.
I wanted to see her happy.
every time I made her laugh I thought about how I wanted to make her laugh forever.
she was getting better.
eventually she was put together enough to get up and walk away.
but she didn’t take me with her.
and I’ve been stuck sitting here where I first found her.
wondering if the pieces left on the floor are hers or mine.
I should probably get the fuck up.

THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL OHMYGOD

wow..

This actually fucking hurt to read.

THIS HURT SO MUCH TO READ

Oh my god, this is so heartbreaking yet so fucking beautiful to read. Just wow, I’m speechless.

OH MY GOD.

"Good Morning"
“How was your day?”
“Be careful”
“Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe”
“Sweet dreams”
“How are you?”
“I hope you’re feeling better”
“Have a good day today!”
“I miss you”
“Good night”
“Can you come over?”
“Can I come over?”
“Can I see you?”
“Can I call you?”
“You’re beautiful”
“Want something to drink?”
“Watch your step”
“Let’s watch a movie”
“What are you up to?”
“How is your day so far?”
“It will be okay”
“I’m here for you”
“Do you need anything?”
“Are you hungry?”
“I just wanted to hear your voice”
“You just made my day”


You don’t have to hear “I Love You” to know that someone does. Listen carefully. People speak from the heart more often than you think.

Blocklava (via bl-ossomed)

(Source: blocklava)

He was a distinct memory. A provocatively humorous memory that painted every inside of my own body with a promise of turning me into someone entirely different. I wish I understood what it was, maybe I would have done something about it; Unfortunately, regrets are no different than memories. What’s done is done and I am changed regardless…for the good or for the worse.
(via lostlittlegatsby)
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