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You don’t have only one soul-mate.

If you did,
you would have married your best friend
three years ago.
She knows you
better than her right hand,
and she’ll listen to you cry
from eight states away.

You don’t have only one soul-mate,
because people wake up different parts of you—
parts you never even knew existed.

The boy when you were 15
taught you what it felt like
to get caught kissing in a closet
at the party you never should have been at
in the first place,
without his lips ever touching yours.

When you were 18,
a boy let you know what it’s like
to have your heart lodged in your throat,
because he’s moving 2,000 miles away,
And he won’t tell you when he’ll be back.

You wait until you’re 22
to get attached again,
and this time you feel it in every inch.
It’s as if you got struck by lightning—
the Lichtenberg figure crawls
up your arms and across your back,
like his hands on your skin
while you laid in bed together,
and you thought the thump of your heart
was in time with his.

You don’t have only one soul-mate;
Instead, you have soul-mates,
because your heart is huge
and you have the room.

you fall in love easily but your heart still isn’t full ; s.m. ( (via grmln)

I am the kind of girl that you take home to meet your mom
and she loves me
when you are mean to me
and lose me,
she will ask why I’m not around
did she ever do that before?

I am the kind of girl that you give up the late night text messages
with your ex-girlfriend for
she makes you feel like shit anyways
and the reason why you stopped being on your phone
all the damn time
trying to flirt with someone you hardly even know
to fill a void

but if you don’t drop that for me
I won’t stay long
I’m not the kind of girl
who gets caught in a web
with someone who doesn’t look towards the future

I am the kind of girl who would rather be alone
than with someone who always puts me second (never again)
and I am not to be pushed to the side
I am not an option
I am all or nothing
does that intimidate you?

I am the kind of girl
that makes you wonder why you didn’t look more carefully at the sky
before you met me
you probably trust me
and think I could complete you
(maybe I will)

and the kind of girl who is terrified of you
because she doesn’t know how to let someone in
because I like your mom too and I don’t want
her to text me six months from now saying
it had been a pleasure to know me
and she wishes I was still around

i write dumb poems (via olivia-ross)

Omfg tht middle part bout the ex-gf so fucking accurate to my life rn.

(via thexxxside0fme)

(Source: oliviaxross.wordpress.com)

yomommaboyfriend:

rhaynecoleman:

what movie is this?

Step brothers.

(Source: gizz-e)

sksparkle77:

virginsplayground:

sad-butsassy:

shinnomew:

my-littletony:

vixen7:

I’m crying.

ITS BACK

“You’re the worst friend ever” in a monotone voice
I’m very happy

"I will rip your fucking throat out"

I TRIED TO NOT REBLOG BUT THEN I COULDNT

Baratone!!!

"I spread my wings and

-SHUT UPPP

….fly awayyyy”

(Source: missinglinc)

HOW TO BE THE GIRL HE WANTS:

the first time someone tells you these words I hope you stick out your hand and catch the letters in the air I hope you crunch them in your fist I hope you shove them back into the mouth they flew out of I hope and pray you are not eight years old and hanging off of a shopping cart and groaning about how bored you are, I hope you were not young like I was the first time I read a magazine on a shelf underneath the candy I hope you weren’t young because I still thought everything I read had to be true - but better yet, I hope these words never find you.

They tell you to be strong but it’s the little things like this that sit on our hips and tangle in our hair and feel like bees when the night gets dark. It’s the little things we could never ever shake off because the minute we tried, we discovered there were more waiting for us.

HOW TO LOOK GOOD FOR SUMMER:

smile more often. I hope the first time someone calls you fat, you shimmy your shoulders and wink and feel like a goddess and take it as a compliment. I hope you are not the new kid in a fifth-grade class, glasses on your nose and your hair in tangles. I hope nobody ever touched your tummy and asked if you were embarrassed by the way it jiggles. I hope if you ever hear those words, you reach out your beautiful fingers and touch the temple of the person talking and ask, “Are you embarrassed your brain works like that?”

See, I have not gained weight since the eight grade and I’m twenty. I have had about four hundred people tell me I’m skinny but it’s only the two or three voices about the thickness of my thighs and the fat on my hips - these are the only voices that stick. Don’t give them that satisfaction. Take a bath. Stare at your reflection. Count the flecks beside your iris. Promise yourself you’re not going to ruin your life - you won’t let them win. Don’t let that moment cause ripples. Yank out the cruelty from your system.

HOW TO HAVE BETTER SEX:

stop faking it. Stop engineering your body to be a call-and-response of bruises and shots. I hope you are not fifteen the first time a boy kisses you hard. I hope you do not go home with a bloody mouth and spend the rest of your life thinking love is stained with iron. I hope you are not swallowing your sanity to be with somebody. I hope the first time you let someone touch you, they are someone worthy of your trust - I hope that nobody tries to force you into a label like “frigid” or “slut.”

In the animal world, most males have bright plumage so they can attract mates. In humans, we expect ladies to look a certain way. When you break out of the norm, suddenly you’re rattling chains. How dare you not want sex and still look this way. Maybe people are scared of admitting your body has power - it can turn heads in a baggy sweatshirt. Your body doesn’t need a magazine’s confirmation. Your body’s been through hell and still keeps on living. Put on your heels and stalk down the sidewalk. Take off your makeup. Do what you need to feel awesome.

HOW TO BE COMFORTABLE IN YOUR OWN SKIN:

ignore everything they tell you. Don’t let them in.

Maybe one day I’ll make a list of every single terrible magazine I’ve read. I think I’m gonna start an advice column called “If it makes them money, it’s probably not good.” /// r.i.d (via rauchwolken)

(Source: inkskinned)

black-belt-in-origami:

real-faker:

virginmarx:

zebablah:

television history

i’ve been trying to explain this sketch to people for years

there is literally no way to explain this sketch it’s just a thing you have to see and even then I’m not sure why it’s so funny

this is art

(Source: stupidfuckingquestions)

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