Y0UNGL0V3MURD3R
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I seriously follow everyone back.
Joined: October 6, 2012
Last Seen: 1 week
user id: 333400
Gender: F
Joined: October 6, 2012
Last Seen: 1 week
user id: 333400
Gender: F
1,290
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233,331 Favorites
916 Following
915 Followers
30 Comment Points
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Quotes by Y0UNGL0V3MURD3R
Something that hurts to know is that I’m no one’s
first priority. Maybe the third, maybe the last. But never the
first.
I want you to know that it is not always easy to love me.
In fact, it’s probably never easy to love me. Not even for a
second. I’m hard to love, 'cause sometimes my heart fills with
so much emptiness that it’s hard to breath. And sometimes my
mind wanders out to the extreme and brings back emotions I
thought would be gone. My point is I’m not easy to love, and if
you can’t love me when I don’t talk to you for three days
because I’m just so depressed that getting out of bed is hard
then you are not fit to love me. If you can’t love me when
I’m warm & happy at 2 pm then you can’t love me when I’m
cold & harsh at 4 am. I need a lover who knows how to love me
when I’m sad because the fact is I can’t do this on my own.
Even if I say I can, I know deep down I can’t. And I don’t
want to do it all alone which is what I’ve been doing for the
past 18 years of life I’ve had. So please, if you’re gonna
love me when I’m happy and sweet and spilling I love you’s
out like it’s your name then you’re gonna have to love me
when I’m on my bathroom floor crying, too tired to move, scared
of what I’ll do. You’re gonna have to hold me. You’re gonna
have to tell me it’s gonna be okay even if you don’t think it
is. You’re gonna have to tell me that even in this mist of
sadness that I have you. That I’m not alone even though I feel
like I am 99% of the time. So please, please, please be careful
with my heart. It’s been broken so many times and sure I’ve
always put it back together but my kindness is growing weaker
with every I love you that is met with a “goodbye, you
weren’t enough.” So all I ask is think. Please think for a
good 10 minutes of this, if I’m what you want. If you can
handle this. If you choose to stay I promise I’ll love you the
same each day. I promise I’ll love you when you are down about
life and I promise I’ll love you when you are so joyful that it
hurts to smile because you’ve been doing it all day. I promise
I’ll love you with everything I have which isn’t much but I
hope it’s enough. I hope I’m enough. So when you figure
everything out let me know. I’ll be waiting.
I need help. My mind is a mess and I feel trapped. I
think of the future and I don’t want one.
I don’t want a
future. I don’t believe in a time after, my now is just too
contorted. I feel like I am being held at gun point and instead
of appeasing the psychopath, I am taunting him, edging him on,
persuading him in my sarcastic, sadistic manor so he can just
pull the fücking trigger already. I’ve carved my initials into
that bullet and I long for the taste of lead. I am a concept, I
am a part of time and the universe, but I am fairly certain that
my atoms could combine into something much more useful than this
hollow carcass I puppeteer through life. I just want to slash the
strings and sink into nothingness. Sink into the unfathomably
bottomless darkness that beckons to me in my dreams. I cannot
shake the feeling that I was never suppose to exist and now it is
time to go home, to cease from this world and never enter
another. I was an anomaly, an out-liar, a bump in a supposedly
smooth road. I should not be here. I am not a person, I am not a
spirit or a soul. I am nothing. This was a mistake.
Sadness is not loud.
You cannot see it in their eyes.
Sadness is in the vision. Sadness is staring at the ceiling
with your arms at the sides. Sadness is your inability to muster
up the energy to turn off the light. Sadness is wishing your
demons were real and then wishing that they’d come get you.
Sadness is quiet sobs in the corner of the bathroom. Sadness is
still smiling.
Sadness is not in your eyes; it is in your
veins, in your bones, in your goddämn blood.
When it comes to the people I care about, I can be quite
the hypocrite. I’ll give you the hours during which I should be
sleeping without hesitation. My eyelids saturated with fatigue,
I’ll gladly watch the seconds tick away knowing that somehow
this is helping you. But when it comes to me, I don’t want you
to worry. You don’t need to help me climb out of the rubble I
call my life. I’ll make it out somehow. Until I do, I’ll put
a smile on my face for you. I’ll make sure it’s high quality,
made from whatever amount of strength I could muster before
stepping outside that morning. If I’m lucky, you won’t
question the bags under my eyes or the way I seem to space out
when my thoughts become too loud. If I’m lucky, my sadness will
stay just that, mine. I know your arms are open, but sometimes I
don’t want to trouble you with this body. Sometimes I just
don’t want to be a burden.
I think it hurts the worst when you get your hopes up for
something, get them up really high to the point where you think
it actually might happen–and then it doesn’t. And you’re
left sitting there, under the weight of your disappointment, with
concrete in your chest and tears lining your eyes, and what do
you do after that? Nothing. All you can seem to do is sit there
and listen to the echoing sounds your body makes in all of its
emptiness.
he was a universe and I got lost among the stars
moonlight shines through the blinds, clashing with the
darkness. this beautiful light seems almost unreal as my hand
passes over the patch of it. soon it will fade away until the
night clouds part for it again, and it chooses to find me stuck
in the dark.
and when the fog is over and the stars and the moon come
out at night it'll be a beautiful sight
I was not myself for weeks yet nobody noticed