1. (Fuente: glassofwhisky, vía langleav)


  2. "

    Painless ways to kill yourself.

    i. There is no painless way to kill yourself, someone, somewhere, will feel the pain.

    ii. The internet says, “sleeping pills, you will fall asleep and never wake up! You won’t feel a thing!” When that is a lie, your stomach will turn to fire and your throat will fill with the taste of your own stomach acid. You will drown in your own spit. That isn’t even the worst party, it’s when your mother comes home from work. She will walk through the door, and call out your name. She will call and call and there will be no response, maybe you’re in the shower? Maybe you’re asleep? She will walk up the stairs, knock on your door to receive no answer. When she walks in she will see the lifeless body of her baby girl, lying on the floor. Her heart will stop but she will run to you with shaky knees, touching your face that is now still and cold. Her body will be on fire, and her throat will begin to tighten, the sharp pains in her chest will feel like knives in the heart. That image will kill her more than her own death, it will haunt her living years each night. She will no longer be alive, but just as dead as you are now.

    iii. Years ago, your father showed you the gun safe he kept in the house in case of emergencies, you knew the pass code, you knew how to shoot and loud, at least you had an idea. They say a bullet to the brain will do the job.. So one night, when your father is fast asleep, you will be down the hallway staring down the mouth of a gun.
    One, two, three..
    Your father’s heart will jump and his body will follow, the first thing he thinks of is you. He will scream your name and run down the hallway and bang on your door. It’s locked. His knees begin to feel weak as he bruises his body trying to knock down the door, the first sight he see’s in blood splattered on the wall. At that moment his breath began to stop, and his eyes wandered to yours. Still open, but no more life inside your shell. He will drop to his hands and knees and scream why, why, why. There will never be a day he won’t hate himself, for keeping a gun in the house, for not making you happy, for not knowing. He will live a life without a son, live a life with an empty space. Live a life of hurt, and hatred for himself.

    iv. You may think that when you’re dead and gone you will not be hurting anyone. You may think when you slide a blade across your wrist, you’re only hurting yourself. Yet I have learned that is not true, it’s not. The person who will find your body, the one who see’s the cuts, their chest will feel tight and they will feel like it was their fault for letting it get this far. The only mark you will be leaving on them is pain, hurt, and the question why? So please note this, there is pain in every suicide attempt, every death, every cut. You are not only hurting your life, but others too. Because you are cared for.

    — i.c. // “There is always pain in death, maybe not felt by the one dying, but felt by the lovers of the deceased.” (via delicatepoetry)

    (vía jessicam-blr)


  3. "I didn’t fall in love with you
    Falling sounds like an accident
    Like I was standing on the edge of a building
    And lost my balance
    So no, I didn’t fall in love with you
    I stood on the edge
    And tilted my head
    I took a deep breathe
    Looked over the edge
    And smiled to myself,
    As I jumped over that edge
    And did a fucking back flip on the way
    I didn’t have to fall for you
    Because I looked in your eyes and saw something different
    I saw your smile and it made me happy
    Then I heard your thoughts and you had me hooked
    Every word you spoke
    Turned into hours of rethinking our conversations alone in my bedroom
    And you say you’re no good with words
    Or that you say stupid things
    But everything you say is poetry to me
    The world makes sense around you
    So, no
    I didn’t fall in love with you
    I jumped
    And landed in your arms
    And I would do it a million times over
    Because I know you’d always be there to catch me"

    asceticcomposer “I didn’t fall in love with you” (via asceticcomposer)


    (vía jessicam-blr)


  4. just-call-me-bubbles:


    i want to sit on a kitchen counter in my underwear at 3 am with you and talk about the universe

    i’m so up for that

    (Fuente: flowury)

  6. (Fuente: m-a-s-t-er, vía rock-n-horror)

  7. Dime en dónde escondes a tu muñeca voodoo, porque no me puedo controlar’

  8. ¿Y alguna vez Delilah dijo cómo era NYC?

  9. petitpoulailler:

    devaneiosretratados: 1913 Power O’Malley (Irish; 1870-1946) ~ Beware the Beautiful Witch

    (vía langleav)

  10. criiimes:

    Marla’s philosophy of life is that she might die at any moment. The tragedy, she said, was that she didn’t


    (Fuente: movieshift, vía langleav)


  11. "

    The first time your heart breaks, it doesn’t simply tear.
    It shatters.
    Fragments of blood-streaked glass stain your bedroom walls;
    bitter tears, drenched in despair and confusion and piercing sadness
    line your bottom eyelids, tinge your cheeks a painful fusion of red and regret;
    your hands shake and your knees wobble as you try to step forward, try to leave before you are left, before you are consumed, before you begin to think of crawling back.

    Your first thought is that you are to blame:
    that you were too invested – and he not at all,
    that you should have known he didn’t want anything serious,
    that he wanted your body and not you,
    that he never wanted you.

    But he left you, and that is his loss.
    He does not know how it feels to be alone on cold nights, infrequent strikes of lightning and passion illuminating his windows, his thoughts.
    The grief seeps between his fingers, overflows his veins, reminds him that the consequences of a forgotten love are very rarely one-sided.

    The first time your heart breaks, it doesn’t simply tear.
    It shatters.
    But here I am, as I always promised to be,
    sweeping up each broken, glimmering piece of crystal,
    bandaging the wounds he has left on your wrists,
    kissing your cheeks and rubbing your back,
    reminding you to breathe,
    slowly, deeply, quietly.

    I know it hurts.
    I know that your stomach is crumbling inside of you,
    a city set alight and left to burn;
    and your head is swaying from left to right,
    drunk on the love you have wasted,
    intoxicated by the smell of his neck as he turns away.

    But someday, a day far ahead of this one,
    the world will become bright again.
    You will wake up and smile,
    and you will be happy without him.

    — L.G. The First Time Is Always The Hardest (via introv-erted)

    (vía jessicam-blr)

  12. Necesito un libro. Y de los buenos.

  13. nozhs:

    I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn’t a second at all, it stretches on forever, like an ocean of time… For me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout camp, watching falling stars… And yellow leaves, from the maple trees, that lined our street… Or my grandmother’s hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper… And the first time I saw my cousin Tony’s brand new Firebird… And Janie… And Janie… And… Carolyn. I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me… but it’s hard to stay mad, when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst… And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life… You have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m sure. But don’t worry… you will someday.

    American Beauty (1999) dr. Sam Mendes


    (vía jessicam-blr)


  14. "If it kills me I don’t care."

    Me (via boys-and-suicide)



    (vía addictedtotheforeversadness)

  15. Siempre te amaré. Pero necesito pastillas para dormir. Siempre te he fallado. Así que aleja mis recuerdos.

    (Fuente: genericcommonwhatever, vía discolor3d)