you don't a reason to live. it's ok to just be. but when you're feeling down and need to remind yourself all the reasons why we love life, take a look inside..

She's a teardrop. She's the wind. She's the summer, and the winter. She's the cold coffee. She's everything, and, at the same time, she's nothing.

Some people are artists. Some, themselves, are art. ||a/n: these aren't mine unless stated otherwise||

she stares into the mirror- she skips dinner again- she takes single bites from apples as the number of calories zip and spin through her mind as she gazes dully at her stomach. she just wants to be pretty.

a few last words

my throat burns of all the countless things I never had the courage to tell you

the things i write while i'm sad i suppose [this is rlly old, dont waste your time and read something worthy]