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i couldn’t say how long i sat in bed, staring at paper. wondering who to address this to. the person who tore open my eyes or the person who tore apart my life. after a while the lead dulled, the eraser wasn’t even good in the first place. so i sat down at this desk with new paper.. and a pen this time. ink is permanent, consistent, qualities that are completely essential to me at this point. something you told me you could provide, something i was promised.. something i believed. no one should ever be this vulnerable, but then again not everyone has to experience this weakness. if i maintain this strong independent mask i’m just as much a liar as you are. i’m scared and lost. don’t you dare flatter yourself with the credit for that. it’s because of what i let myself feel. safe. but you’ve made it obvious that was a bad choice.

I love being on tumblr when I’m high. So entertaining. (:

ant-mursphere:

LMAO.