My life in words.

so here I am.

serration:

constantly torn between “if it’s meant to be, it will be” and “if you want it, go get it”

Seek respect, not attention. It lasts longer.
(via blud3vil)

(Source: thedailypozitive)


lost-in-stella:

Can we just take a moment to discuss how beautiful Frances Bean Cobain is

Kurt would have been so proud

g0ssipgirl-daily:

aliciaaadanielle:

n4ughty-y:

I watched an interview he was in and they asked him, “how do you play being in love so easily?” and he replied, “actually being in love with leighton really helped.”

My heart

Never stop reblogging

g0ssipgirl-daily:

aliciaaadanielle:

n4ughty-y:

I watched an interview he was in and they asked him, “how do you play being in love so easily?” and he replied, “actually being in love with leighton really helped.”

My heart

Never stop reblogging

(Source: chicgarden)

Be careful who you vent to.
Realest shit I’ve heard all morning. (via corivicious)

(Source: itsthelesbiana)


You’re looking for a poem to tell
you why your heart is broken
into every piece. You’re looking
for someone to compare all the
ways he didn’t love you to a rose
and how even when it turns
black with death, it’s still lovely.
There aren’t words that will
make your phone’s silence
easier, trust me. You’re alone
tonight and he’s probably
thinking about someone else;
there’s nothing poetic about that.
Rebeka Anne, don’t give him the satisfaction of leaving something beautiful behind. your heartbreak isn’t pretty. (via anneisrestless)


Peter’s not coming, darling.
You can latch the window and take the white ribbons from your hair,
stop sleeping with socks on and packing going-away bags.
Whispering the names of the lost boys will not hasten them to you.
Clapping your hands is no enchantment.
There is magic, though, in lining your eyes,
and spells to be cast in sharpening your tongue.
Come to me, darling, and I’ll show you how queens carry themselves.
I will teach you how to wrangle womanhood and tame it into a lapdog,
to recognize pirates without their hooks and rapier them with words,
to say no to heartless boys who need mothering
and make peace with stern princesses and jealous faeries.
I will help hide away childhood in the gilded cage of your ribs,
where it may blossom and thrive in the wildest part of you.
Here you will never grow old, never die.
Here is your Neverland, laced through your heart like corset strings,
tied up tight into a ribbon no span of years can unravel.
"To Growing Girls Who Dream of Neverland" by S.T. Gibson (via youreyesaregems)
“Peter’s not coming, Darling.” (via redcatinsanfrancisco)


I go down to the shore in the morning
and depending on the hour the waves
are rolling in or moving out,
and I say, oh, I am miserable,
what shall—
what should I do? And the sea says
in its lovely voice:
Excuse me, I have work to do.
Mary Oliver, from the book A Thousand Mornings (via fishingboatproceeds)