"When I was 18 I wanted to fuck on the floor and break shit.
When I was 25 I wanted to fuck on the floor and break shit.
When I was 35 I wanted to fuck on the floor and break shit.
Now I’m 40 and I want to fuck on the floor and break shit."
- Henry Rollins (via burn-eat-sleep-repeat)

I see parts of you in every bit of me;
I want to rip every ounce of you into pieces
but I can’t seem to cut you out without hurting myself.

You are in my bones, my skin, my thoughts and
the way I feel about you hasn’t changed but
I think I have.

I miss the part of me that you took with you.
I am tired of looking at my own reflection and only seeing the bits of me I once wanted so earnestly to call yours.

I could still be yours."
- I can’t get rid of you. I’m not sure if I’m ready (want) to. (via niqqaqueen)
"2:31am [incoming text]: I love you
2:36am [outgoing text]: You’re drunk.
2:36am [WHAT I SHOULD HAVE SAID]: I love you too, and I’m scared. I don’t know what to say or why it’s almost three in the morning and the only thing you want to say is you love me. I’m scared because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my entire life. I love you; I love your smile and your eyes and how they light up when you talk about cooking. I love you and your flaws. I love you for the four beautiful years you gave me. I’m scared to say I love you because I don’t know how drunk you are or if you even meant to reach for your phone and text me. I love you for allowing me back in your life and for giving me a chance to prove that I am nothing like I was once before. I’ve missed you everyday since the day I lost you and I can’t help but think of you everyday of my life. I’m in love with you and I’m scared to reply that I love you too because I don’t know if you’ll regret this in the morning, if you’ll wake up hung over and hating yourself for unwanted text messages. My hands are shaking because when I reached for my phone I didn’t think it’d be a text message from you, let alone one that said, “I love you.” You’re sitting 15 feet away from me and I can’t help but stare at you and you keep looking up at me, every ten seconds or so. I wonder if you’re worried or if you’re wondering what I’m going to reply back. But I can’t stop my hands from shaking so I feel that the best response to say to you is, “You’re drunk.”
3:54am: I can’t resist you. I can’t help but smile and feel warm inside as I stare at you. I want all of you and fuck I wish I would have said, “I love you, too.” My hands have stopped shaking and you’re now standing right next to me. I tell myself to stop being a fucking coward. So I grab your waist and try with every muscle in me not to slur my words. I can’t help it and I’d rather say it then to regret not saying anything at all. I pull you close and whisper in your ear, “I love you, too.” Your shoulders get tense and you release this innocent giggle as you rest your head on my chin and it’s at the moment when I know that drunk or not, we just needed one night of drinking to admit what we had always known."
- Story of the three letter word (via h0pefulkid-withaninkedupheart)