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IT'S HARD TO BE  OKAY WITH YOURSELF WHEN YOU LOOK IN THE MIRROR EVERYDAY AND ONLY SEE THINGS YOU WISH YOU COULD CHANGE. AND ALL THE "WHAT IFS" PLAY THROUGH YOUR MIND. WHAT IF I WAS THINNER? WHAT IF I HAD MORE FRECKLES? WHAT IF I DIDN'T HAVE ACNE? WE ARE TAUGHT OF IMPERFECTIONS BUT NEVER HOW TO DEAL WITH THEM. WHY CAN'T I HAVE ACNE AND STILL BE BEAUTIFUL? WHY CAN'T I HAVE A LITTLE MORE MEAT ON MY BONES AND STILL FEEL GOOD ABOUT MYSELF? I WISH I COULD SAY I LOVE MYSELF, BUT WHY SHOULD I WHEN NOBODY ELSE DOES?



 






 





i don't love myself,
but I get irritated when I'm cut off in the middle of my sentence, as if what I have to say isn't as important as what the interrupter does. I don't love myself, but I feel indignant disbelief when I'm ignored or seemingly forgotten by so-called friends for weeks or months at a time. I don't love myself, but I believe I deserve an apology when I have been wronged, and am angry when it never comes. I don't love myself, but I don't allow people to talk rudely of my interests and invalidate my feelings about those interests. I don't love myself, but I'm stung by whispers behind my back; I'm worth honesty, even of the brutal sort. I don't love myself, but lies to my face are insults to my intelligence – and I do know I have plenty of it. I don't love myself, but I'm bitterly jealous when I'm the last to know something significant about someone I care for, and when another's advice on a difficult situation is sought out instead of mine; I believe I offer valuable counsel. I don't love myself, but I don't understand when others don't love me. Maybe I don't hate myself as much as I thought I did. Maybe I'm finally beginning to realize that I amount to more than what some have tried to make me believe I do.

       

         
 our insanity
    IS NOT THAT WE SEE PEOPLE WHO    
aren't there. it's that we ignore THE ONES WHO ARE.
 

 


You taught me how to be alone.
And I learned my lesson in your absence.

you make me feel feelings...

The whole time I was hoping my silence would fit yours and exclamation marks would gently float across time and space so that boundaries would be crossed; the whole time I was praying you would read my eyes and understand what I was never able to understand. See, we were never about butterflies. We’ve always been about burning stars. All about us is unearthly and radiant.

                         —Anna Akhmatova
” 

               I release you. I evict you from my heart. Because if I don't do it now, 
    I neveR wILL.

format-br0kenwings LEAVE THIS HERE PLEASE.









 
Traumatic experiences are
broken bones of the soul.
If you engage in the
process of recovery,
you get stronger. If you
don’t, the bones remain
porous, with permanent
holes inside, and you are considerably weaker.

© format coded by: br0kenwings
Please don't remove this, or make it invisible!
Image is from tumblr, original photographer unknown.
I swear to god 
my heart shattered into a million pieces when you left me 
the thing about break ups is 
one person walks out feeling relieved, 
while the other one falls to the floor not knowing how to go on
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