Sometimes I say “aw, fuck it. Who needs people anyway” and I try to tell myself I don’t need anyone. But I know just how much it hurts to not have anybody and I never want to feel this way ever again.

I miss how you wanted me.

-six word story, #18  (via terrible)

nationaldisaster:

Always.

iwantyoureffingtatertots:

I need someone who will sit on a rooftop with me at 2 in the morning and will tell me their favorite songs and their family problems and how they think the earth was made

every time you hurt me I apologized because I felt guilty for making you feel bad

-(via wazqucci)

kylesimmonsstache:

bastealinghearts:

Apparently kylesimmonsstache gets really excited about art.

LET’S FUCKIN TALK ABOUT ART

"REGULAR" ART

FANART

OH WHOA THAT’S A SWEET ASS MOTHERFUCKING CLASSICAL PAINTING BUT THEN FUCKIN LOOK AT THE DETAIL

JESUS CHRIST

TTHHHIIISSSSS IISSSSS AAAAA PAAAIINNNTTTIIINNNGGGG?!!?!!?!!!?!?!!! WHAT TO HECK????

FUCKIN SWEET ASS DAFT PUNK COLORED PENCILS HELLA

LOOK AT THIS AND TELL ME IT ISN’T FUCKIN RAD AS HELL

MOTHERFUCKING EMBROIDERY?!!!!!!?!?!!?!!?

THIS LOOKS LIKE A SCENE OUT OF A MOVIE

OH SWEET LOOK AT THIS SCULPTURE RIGHT

JUST WAIT A FUCKIN MINUTE HERE

THIS IS A DRAWING MADE TO LOOK LIKE A SCULPTURE I CAN’T FUCKING

LOOK MORE SWEET ASS COLORED PENCIL DRAWINGS
NOW I’M ABOUT TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT MY BRO BERNINI OKAY JUST TRUST ME ON THIS

ALREADY GORGEOUS RIGHT

FUCKING LOOK AT THAT LOOK AT IT I’M FUCKING

HOW DOES MARBLE LOOK LIKE GOSSAMER FABRIC HOOOOOWWWW??!!!!?

This is the rape joke:
My best friend was four years old the first time his father came into his room at midnight and tore out his throat. He still has days when I cannot hold him because the memory of a bleeding trachea haunts his doorway. He has not been home for the holidays in many years, but – even now – hands are seen as weapons.

This is the rape joke:
I have been told by more than twenty people that they have been raped. To all of them, I asked where the rapist was. From none of them, I heard ‘jail.’

This is the rape joke:
Once my brother told me that I was so ugly, I would be a virgin forever. Unless someone raped me. But even they wouldn’t come back for seconds.

This is the rape joke:
I believed him.

This is the rape joke:
I now look at every woman on the street and wonder if the space between her legs is a crime scene, surrounded by ripped caution tape. The statistics tell me that this is so common that I will never be in a room that does not contain a survivor. Not even if I am in that room alone.

This is the rape joke:
I was thirteen years old, and he was supposed to be just a friend.

This is the rape joke:
When his older brother came home, the boy pulled away. He wiped the tears from my face and said ‘we should do this again some time.’

This is the rape joke:
When I finally told my parents, they asked what I had been wearing.

This is the rape joke:
I had been wearing my innocence. My trust. I had worn the love I held for humanity and expected to be treated well. I had never been taught that I would be that girl, the one who keeps a mine of secrets between her legs – that girl was the slut. I wasn’t supposed to be breakable.
What had I been wearing? I wore the rape joke, then I became it.

-

This is the Rape Joke | d.a.s

After Lora Mathis’s poem “the Rape Joke

(via backshelfpoet)

kayleyhyde:

we all know that feeling, vending machine

blankbabe:

we are the last generation whose baby photos weren’t taken on phones