Earthlight on the Moon

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via girlchoking)
We like to be out in nature so much because it has no opinion about us.
Friedrich Nietzsche Human, All Too Human
Sometimes all you need is a second chance … because you weren’t ready for the first one.
Lessons Learned in Life (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

it was love at first.

offbeatorbit:

jesus fucking christ

8,457 plays

comatose-on-rhymes:

Atmosphere // Fuck You Lucy

Do I sound mad?
Well I guess I’m a little pissed
Every action has a point
Five points make a fist
You close ‘em
You swing ‘em
It hurts when it hits
And the truth can be a bitch
But if the boot fits
I got an idea
You should get a tattoo that says “Warning”
That’s all, just a warning
So the potential victim
Can take a left and safe breath
And avoid you
Sober and upset in the morning
I wanna scream “Fuck you, Lucy!”
But the problem is I love you, Lucy
So instead
I’m gonna finish my drink and have another
While you think about how you used to be my lover
Fuck You 

Dreams shouldn’t be allowed to feel so real. They shouldn’t be real. I should not wake up breathless and gasp for a ragged patch of oxygen like I’m inhaling a tissue to staunch tears. I should not groan in pain when the moonbeam light images in my head(?) crash down heavier than lead and tear their way out through the bottom of my universe leaving it in billowing flaps. My bed shouldn’t be transformed into a burning skillet, generating no heat but the immolating reflection of this other reality. So I’m up. And I remember. And I can’t keep these hot coals inside of me. 

whatever your reasons, make sure they’re good enough for the nights you’re left alone, battered awake by an earthquake chest