Wes Anderson (via buildings-on-fire)
I hate my body and I don’t want to leave my bed for at least two years
believe that my kindness makes me
anything but insurmountable.
I did not unzip my chest to every kind of hurt,
and stagger back, wounded and alive,
just to hear you call me weak for trying.
I opened my door to Heartache—
I gave her the fucking key.
My softness for wayward strangers
has made me nothing less
than a halfway house for aching soles.
So when you open your mouth
and call me ‘baby’
understand that I am not your next victim
in a laundry list of broken girls.
You think I don’t know you? People like you?
People with mouths for hands.
I’ve got skin like topsoil
and your teeth could never take root.
So when you go looking to make a plaything
of a sunburst,
you better look for someone with less fire
Because softness or no,
I will eat you alive
before I let you make a meal of me.
Softness, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)
and think of the galaxies inside my
heart, and truly wonder if anyone will
ever want to make sense of all that
Christopher Poindexter (via larmoyante)
thank you for establishing this because I deal with mental health issues and im a teenager and its not very easy
this is really important to me