the mountains look lovely today
I don’t know if my brain is
my friend or not, but it tells me to
give it time. I can’t feel
if my body is right or not
but I guess that feels
What remains once the war is won?
A kingdom of corpses.
His name too heavy in my mouth.
What do we become in death?
What do we keep once we are ghosts?
The blood under my fingernails.
His crooked teeth.
Searching for happiness in the threads of his hands.
A love that burned alive.
A love that is still bursting in my hollow chest.
A love that was never enough.
What do you do when you’re alone in the darkness?
Wait for him,
I’ll wait forever if I must.
Were you ever able to name one hero who was happy?
Guardians of the Galaxy made me discover that trees can in fact make you cry
I hate how history is basically HIS story
I get in most languages a collective group is in the masculine hence history is the story of man kind but come on.
It shouldn’t only be HIS story it should be HER story too.
ever wonder how different your life would be if that one thing never happened