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A.

@avesthetics-blog

seventeen.
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I hate that it was so easy for you to leave me. I hate thinking about you waking up one day and realizing I wasn’t what you wanted anymore. I hate that I meant nothing to you, that every raw moment we shared with each other could have been fake. Its all just too overwhelming.

Excerpt from a book I will never write #1213 // it’s all just too overwhelming, i hate myself for trusting you, for putting so much time and effort while i should have been protecting myself // excerptsofstories (via excerptsofstories)

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when I say I wanna have sex I don’t mean I wanna get fucked and cum I mean I wanna makeout with someone for half an hour on my couch with grabby hands all over my body and our teeth clashing because we get so into it that we can’t stop kissing, I mean slow desperate, needy grinding on each other before we take it to the bed, bumping our heads, giggling as we take our clothes off, trying to adjust and get into the right position, I mean having someone on top of me and looking up at them to see that blissful little grin on their face before they scrunch it up a lil and moan because it feels sooooo good and I mean making each other cum so good we end up all out of breath, a sweaty, happy mess, fingers still intertwined, my legs still around their waist, making out again, that’s what I want and it would be kinda cool if I could have it now

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I want to hate you. I need to fill my heart with nothing but hate in order to demonize you. I have to push past through the two years of good memories I have of you and highlight the nights I felt alone and betrayed. I need to remember all the times I questioned whether or not you loved me and how numb I feel from everything now. I need to remind myself how happy you look in pictures as though getting rid of me never effected you.

Excerpt from a book I will never write #1197 // i cant ever hate you though, you were my best friend for two years and i shared so much with you. you were truly the one and although we had bad times, i will always make excuses for your behavior because i love you // excerptsofstories (via excerptsofstories)

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“Kiss me, Kiss me like the universe is being swallowed by a black hole. While you’re at it, Put your hand around my throat and choke me. Suffocate me like our species suffocates our own freedom. Merciful enough I know I’m not going to die, but also not sure if I’m going to live. Don’t just kiss my lips. Sink below and drown in my curves, from my breasts to my naval. Let your lips collide with my skin like waves thrusting into the shore. Our skin starts to taste like the sea as well. Salty and just the surface of depths so deep there is no reaching them. So dark, if you do reach them, you may never see the light again. Because some things aren’t worth knowing. Some depths aren’t so forgiving. But I don’t feel like I’m drowning when I am at the mercy of your grip around my throat. Wrapped in cotton sheets and your legs as they pulse against my own. I feel safe with you. You’ve seen my bones shaking, Felt my blood flowing, But we will leave it at that. Because I know the deeper we get, The closer I come to drowning.”

modestmycelium, Claire Goolet – 24 year old queer nomad (via wnq-writers)

Source: wnq-writers
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perrfectly
So, do it. Decide. Is this the life you want to live? Is this the person you want to love? Is this the best you can be? Can you be stronger? Kinder? More Compassionate? Decide. Breathe in. Breathe out and decide.

Meredith Grey (via perrfectly)

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I am not the first person you loved. You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of forevers. We have both known loss like the sharp edges of a knife. We have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin. Our love came unannounced in the middle of the night. Our love came when we’d given up on asking love to come. I think that has to be part of its miracle. This is how we heal. I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book. I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar of your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you. And I will not be afraid of your scars. I know sometimes it’s still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know: whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant than the sun or the nights you collapse into my lap your body broken into a thousand questions, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I will love you when you are a still day. I will love you when you are a hurricane.

Clementine von Radics, Mouthful of Forevers (via thelovejournals)

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weepycat

things that 15 year old me did sophomore year that my southern-bred god-fearing conservative christian teachers Did Not Like

  • teacher refused to let me sit backwards in chairs. i made a point to sit backwards in chairs until she told me to stop, and then id manspread as much as possible. (semester one.)
  • teacher got onto my friend and gave her a panic attack over her newly dyed hair. i told her my friend putting red streaks in her hair was no different than her removing the grey streaks from her hair. got sent outside. (semester one)
  • teacher told me my bra strap was showing. took my bra off in class and put it in bag. was sent to principal’s office. mother was called, although she only muffled her laughter over the telephone. (semester two)
  • [to homophobic teacher who disliked my mothers] “what country is gaelic from? gayland?” “that’s where my moms are from, ma’am.”
  • teacher claimed i was lying about moving to uruguay and tried to force me into sitting in a personal meeting about my future classes and goals. told her to “sign me the fuck up for underwater basket weaving” and got sent outside. (semester two)
  • was told by teacher that “ladies should not say they have to pee. try ‘can i use the restroom’ instead” replied with “alright. i gotta piss like a racehorse. can i use the restroom?“ (got sent outside. again. semester two)
  • was told to “smile, you’ll look nicer” by a 6′0″ male coach i did not know. when he blocked my entrance out of the classroom until i smiled for him, i panicked and said “shove it straight up your ass,” before elbowing him in the ribcage, ducking under his arm, and running for it. skipped class in that building for a week. (semester two)
  • hopped a fence to catch my bus and flipped off an ancient male history teacher when he shouted at me to come back. he threatened to find me again. he never found me.