i was reading through my journal and i found this one page and it broke me
My life in one picture.
ATTENTION ALL GIRLS AND LADIES: if you walk from home, school, office or anywhere and you are alone and you come across a little boy crying holding a piece of paper with an address on it, DO NOT TAKE HIM THERE! take him straight to the police station for this is the new ‘gang’ way of rape. The incident is getting worse. Warn your families. Reblog this so this message can get accross to everyone.
I will always reblog things like this, it won’t ruin your blog or the look of it, and this could potentially save a life.
Found a better use for the wine glasses.
That’s a martini glass.
I’m literally using it for milk and cookies does it look like I care about the finer points of debauchery.
Glad I’m not the only one who does this…
I’m sure this seemed like a better idea on paper
This is hilarious hahahah
For the few of you who enjoy my writing, I have just made and account for just purely my writing! Go give it a follow!
Tumblr Handle is : K B-Squared
The cool of the afternoon kept a consistent set of goose bumps on her skin, but her fingers were warm from the small stick of death she held.
Smoke rolled off her lips as she tilted her head to the sky, opening her mouth to let a small puff of air out. The trapped smoke in her mouth burned down her throat and into her lungs, giving her small satisfaction but it didn’t last for long.
The pain never quit went away. No matter how many she smoked, how much she drank, how many lines of whatever drugs she had possessed that night. The cuts were never quite deep enough.
Nicotine and tobacco filled the air around her as she stared out over the hills. The sun was shining and the sky was blue, but not quite as blue as her. Her long tangled hair blew in the wind, making a long wave of brown the soft breeze.
The smoke circled her body as the ashes hit the tall weeds, but fizzled out before much became of it. She laid back taking one long drag, sighing as the smoke took it’s leave. She lied there staring at the sky wondering where she would be tomorrow…if she would be here tomorrow.
Fuck. It’s ironic how empty I am because
I swear 6 months ago I had the universe inside
of me but I cried the rivers in my bones dry.
The volcanoes in my chest erupted when you told
me you didn’t love me anymore and lava flooded
my body and hardened till I stopped sleeping.
I had stars in my lungs but I burned them
all out with the cigarettes I was smoking
to get you the fuck out of my throat. The
flowers growing at the bottoms of my
stomach are dead. Apparently you
can’t water flowers with vodka.
I had the sky in my veins but it’s
been pretty fucking stormy since I
ripped them open. I had planets
on the tip of my tongue but
the debris from the shattered
remains of “us” have been
crashing into them. I was
everything. And then I met
you and we were everything.
Now you’re fucking some
blonde girl who gets
high all the time and
I’m a fucking
this is my favorite fucking poem ever ever ever
this is way better than pretty much everything we did in literature.