note to self:

please please please don’t let yourself fall into all this mess again. you worked extremely hard to get here. you gave up so much. you spent a month in isolation in a strange place that scared you half to death; but you pushed through it and did what you had to do. you dug up the past and pried into your deepest fears and issues. you showed your raw emotion. you did so much and worked so hard. recovery life is long and hard and will stick with you for awhile. this is something you have to live with now. don’t throw it all away. don’t swim across the ocean for people who wouldn’t even step in a puddle for you. don’t fall victim to you or your fathers prescription drug problems. you are so much more than your addiction and disorder. you cannot slip back into your old habits. get up. clean your room, take a walk, drink some water, brush your hair, bathe bathe bathe bathe; (the bath is your ocean!), breathe, live, keep calm and don’t fall apart. remember; this is
something you have to live with now. your entire life has changed, learn to
adapt. no-dont just adapt, THRIVE. this new life may not seem ideal at this very moment in time, but unlike your old life, this life is yours. yours to conquer


You came up in a conversation yesterday,
And I didn’t smile
For the first time ever.
This feeling is so strange.
The minute your name was spoken,
Dread enveloped over me
And my chest hurt trying to inhale.
Look what we’ve done, love.
We made quite the mess.
But who’s going to clean it up?
—  j.e.b. ((You used to make me smile, but now you make me cry.))
Se for pra chorar, Chore! Não fique ai dando uma de durão por fora, se por dentro o coração não para de gritar. Chorar não vai te fazer fraco, vai te mostrar que você é forte. Porque isso passa. Isso não é novo. Mas, chore pra você. Reflita o que aconteceu e em sua cabeça mostre para o seu coração que você é o que eu te disse… Forte!
—  Spoken 

"Rape Poem To End All Rape Poems"

I got fuckin goosebumps yo.

They told me the tapping in my wrist is a time bomb
When I believe there are other ways to get away
There must be a reason for why my heart hurts
and why my brain burns
And why all the flowers in my veins feel grey

You flirt with the quiet
You say the way I love is like a disaster
And then you kiss me and it tastes like escape

Seven months ago you slipped your hand in mine
And I slipped out of my skin
Still not quite sure what I’ve been walking around in

—  I’ve been away from home