summmer_love

If you love me let me go
If you love me let me go
‘Cause these words are knives that often leave scars
The fear of falling apart
And truth be told, I never was yours.
P!ATD <3

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
           he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"

          because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
          and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
          and read it to all his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
          took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
          with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed alot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
          Valentine signed with a row of Xs
          and he had to ask his father what the Xs meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
         he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
         because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
         and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
         because of it's new paint
And the kids told him
         that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
         with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
         when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
         his mother and father kissed alot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
         when he cried for him to do it

Once on a piece of paper torn from his notebook
         he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence; A Question"
         because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
         and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
         because he never showed her
That was the year Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
         of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister
         making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
         or even talked
And the girl around the corner
         wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
         but he kissed her anyway
         because that was the thing to do
And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed
         his father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
         he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
         and a slash on each damn wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
         because this time he didn't think
         he could reach the kitchen.


 

 

My teachers and principal have so much trust in me that they're letting me sit in the library, by myself with no adults in here because it's meant to be closed today. All because I told them I have one of my study lines for this double period. But really I have double maths and I just lied to them. 

 

Bacon affects the brain just like cocaine, overloading pleasure centers and requiring increasing amounts to be satisfied.

We live in a world where, we wish we could live in our dreams, but reality f/cks us all over.

"I'm not the only kid who grew up this way. Surrounded by people who used to say that rhyme, about sticks and stones. As if broken bones hurt more than the names we got called, and we got called them all. So we grew up believing no one would ever fall in love with us. That we'd be lonely forever. That we'd never meet someone to make us feel like the sun was something they built for us in their toolshed. So broken heartstrings, bled the blues as we tried to empty ourselves so we would feel nothing, don't tell me that hurts less than a broken bone!"
- To This Day, Shane Koyczan.

Troye Sivan pretenting to be Beyonce`
Why am I the black female version of Jesus Christ?

Got some love for that kid. Hahaha!

format-br0kenwings LEAVE THIS HERE PLEASE.

Welcome to the island of
MISFIT TOYS.

-The Perks of Being a Wallflower. <3

 

I've got these questions always running throught my head, so many things that I would like to understand. If we are born to die and we all die to live, then what's the point of living life if it just contradicts? <3

“That's the thing about pain.. it demands to be felt.”
― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars