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I’m really really thinking about linguistics.

We don’t even have good sex anymore.

"I would tell you I miss you but what’s the fucking point. You don’t love me anymore and I fall asleep crying every night praying to whoever the fuck may be listening that you’ll call me and tell me to come home."

- I miss you so fucking much I don’t know how much longer I can do this. (via jessielou24)

Yeah… I don’t know.

"She was the kind of girlfriend God gives you young, so you’ll know loss the rest of your life"

- Junot Diaz, This Is How You Lose Her (via myshellethao)

(via blueeyedspitfire)

She’s a symbol of resistance. She’s a runaway of the establishment incorparated. And she’s holding on my heart like a hand grenade. She won’t cooperate, well, she’s the last of the American girls.

(via fuckyeahjohngallagherjr)


i take my hedgehog grocery shopping and nobody tells me to stop

(via punxchaosanarchy)

A Girlfriend’s Physics


Consider a frictionless surface
A skin that can’t warm up,
hard to touch and stay touching for a time t
and a metal jaw drawl
Like kissing a taser

I imagine us taking our honeymoon in the Artic,
One broken tent pole, two sick sled dogs,
and before you know it I’m dead from hypothermia,


flowers in my quills

(via rogueofstars)

I miss my dork :/