Thought Catalog (via obdormio)
If they wanted you, wouldn’t they have chosen you? All this time, you were begging for love silently, thinking they couldn’t hear you, but they smelt it on you. You must have known that they could taste the desperate on your skin. And what about the others that would do anything for you, why did you make them love you until you could not stand it? How are you both of these women, both flighty and needful? Where did you learn this, to want what does not want you? Where did you learn this, to leave those that want to stay? ❞
Warsan Shire (via wildfoxxxxx)
1. There will be several days that you daydream about stepping in front of a city bus. Don’t. It will not be beautiful. It will not be brave. It will be selfish. It will be broken. Your mother will cry.
2. Don’t write for him. Write for you. Write for others like you. Write so the girl that thinks about stepping in front of public transportation doesn’t. Don’t be selfish.
3. When you will yourself to sleep and it doesn’t come- get up. It doesn’t matter that it’s 3 am. There will be other 3 am’s. Take a shower. Take two. Wash him out of your hair. Write a poem. Read the same book you’ve read 202 times again. The 203rd time might tell you something different. Don’t stay in bed- you will think about the bus again.
4. Don’t kiss him because he’s broken. Don’t kiss him because his laughter never reaches his eyes. Don’t try and fix him. Fix yourself first. Be selfish. He can’t save you.
5. Date yourself. Take yourself out to eat. Don’t share your popcorn at the movies with anyone. Stroll around an art museum alone. Fall in love with canvases. Fall in love with yourself.
6. Dress up and wear red lipstick and get drunk with your friends. They’re the ones that will pick you up. Don’t kiss him. Or him. Don’t fall asleep on strange couches with strange boys. When his hand slides up your dress walk away. Hit him. Don’t kiss him. He can’t save you.
7. Get another tattoo. Get five more. Get another hole in your ear. Don’t listen to your dad. You will still be able to get a job. Did you really want to be employed by someone like your father? Haven’t you had enough of judgmental old white men anyway? Get fuck you tattooed in tiny letters on your hip.
8. When you feel the yearning for a new city- start over. Take 200 bucks and a three suitcases. Work anywhere that will have you. Meet strange people and forget your name. Call yourself Ruby. No one will know the difference. Remember to call your mother. Don’t be selfish. Come home when you find yourself in the strangers and the small one bedroom apartment.
9. Don’t whisper evil things into your own ear. Other people are going to shout them at you. Be your own hero. Keep a sword on your key ring.
10. Don’t step in front of a city bus. It will not be beautiful. Live. Stay up all night with a boy that promises you everything and means it. Live. See shitty local bands with a friend. Wear a different band’s t-shirt. No one will care. Live. Have a baby girl with tiny fingers and tiny toes someday. Pour love into her until it’s overflowing. Live. Wake up. Staying in bed all day is not poetic.
Do you hear that? It’s me. It’s your life. Wake up.❞
Jeffrey Eugenides (via letsgoletgo)
I stopped trying to kill myself a while ago,
I fell out of love with the idea of dying young.
I quit cigarettes,
Quit drinking myself into oblivion,
Quit sitting in my parked car in a garage with it still running,
Quit carrying a knife at my ankle.
I quit a lot of things that I was obviously doing
to get out early.
Now, I do different things.
I close my eyes when changing lanes,
I don’t hold my breath under water,
I don’t pick up things when I drop them,
And the worst, I think,
I tell people how I feel about them.
Suicidal isn’t a term that sticks after high school,
People seem to just let that shit go.
Because they don’t see you everyday.
They assume you let that shit go.
“Good for you for quitting smoking!”
People willingly let you get behind the wheel of a car.
You can buy a plane ticket to anywhere in the world,
You can buy a gun at the gas station.
I live alone,
I could easily take my beautiful knife set
To my fragile skin.
I could take off a week of work,
And no one would ever come looking for me.
I could tell every single person that matters,
How much I hate them,
Or the awful things I’ve done in my past,
And no one will ever wonder where I went.
My landlord will after about 2 months,
But my dogs will have eaten whatever’s left of me,
And I wouldn’t of left a note.
You can use the self-help books I’ve boughten
Throughout the years,
To ignite a fire to burn this place down.
My body would have seeped through the floor,
And you’ll never be able to get rid of the stench.
Pack up all my things to thrift shops across town,
No family will ever claim any of it.
My same playlist will be burned into your skull,
Because it’s been repeating for the last 2 months.
Could write a pretty neat story for the headline
In the Chronicle.
The same paper that wont hire me,
Because “your words aren’t detailed enough”
But none of this matters,
Because I stopped trying to kill myself a while ago.
I’m not suicidal anymore.
I don’t walk around with an expiration date.