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Don’t you just hate that feeling in your stomach when your heart is broken?
Just like all the butterflies died
Life feels easier while I’m intoxicated.
Six word story (via impulsiveandeuphoricexistance)

Sometimes, when I need answers, I like to take my questions to Google.

I have googled “How long does heartbreak last?” The result more popular than that was “How long does heartburn last?” This implies people suffer from heartburn more than they do heartbreak, which is a good thing, because heartbreak sucks way more than acid reflux ever could. Weirdly, though, a broken heart does physically hurt. It feels heavy, like someone is sitting on your chest.

There are upsides to despair. You can wear a blanket instead of a coat and your friends won’t judge you. You can smoke indoors because nobody will have the heart to tell an inconsolable girl that a smoking ban has been in place for eight years. And you find out that people are very nice and that they care about you, even if the person you care about most doesn’t.

The problem with heartbreak is that nobody can help you. Not the films you watch alone, searching for a character who feels the way you do, not the glasses or bottles of whisky you keep by your bed, and certainly not Instagram. Every time you post a picture of yourself on Instagram looking fake happy, a fairy dies.

Also, scrolling through photos of girls your ex may or may not be shagging won’t help you. Remind yourself that the right filter can be fantastically flattering, and she probably doesn’t look that good in real life.

It (Alexa Chung)

(Source: wordsthat-speak, via wordsthat-speak)

(Source:, via feellng)

When two people with unique names come together and then separate, the split is never a clean cut. Their names linger far too long on each other’s tongues and hearing each syllable spoken adds another chip in their stupid, broken hearts.

Your touch no longer lingers against my skin.

The saddest word
in the whole wide world
is the word almost.

He was almost in love.
She was almost good for him.
He almost stopped her.
She almost waited.
He almost lived.
They almost made it.

Tiny Stories (via untamedunwanted)

small fact for all y’all virgins out there.  Thanks Meggie. I love this. 


#meggieroyer #writingsforwinter #love #writing #poem #smallfact #tumblr #virginity #alone #lonely #words #wise #instagram


small fact for all y’all virgins out there. Thanks Meggie. I love this.


#meggieroyer #writingsforwinter #love #writing #poem #smallfact #tumblr #virginity #alone #lonely #words #wise #instagram

It was a Saturday night, a quarter to midnight when my pristine body had it’s first pair of hands explore it.

The way he kissed my neck down to my belly button, my red lipstick stained lips formed into an “o” shape as my fingers ran through his thick hair.

Don’t mistake something like this for love because when you’re a fifteen year old girl confused having sex with a boy who only wants intercourse isn’t love.

The only explanation is lust, cravings desires, whatever you call it. My favorite is greed because when your hands glided against my skin they felt ice cold; non caring. Uncomfortable and you’re still burning somewhere inside me.

Tell me you didn’t bother to know my middle name, but you wanted to hear me say yours when my back would arch and my toes curl.
Tell me you only wanted to hear that you made me feel good, but you didn’t want to know how I felt the next day.
Please tell me it’s lust. Say it twelve times. Scream it in my face! WAKE ME UP DAMNIT!!
Tell me what I want to hear not this “I love you” bullshit my heart is not for rent.

Admit to me that the night you climbed out of my window at 1 AM you took more than my virginity, you took my innocence.

Tell me (late night writings i found in my journal missthelips-thatmademe-forget)

(Source: missthelips-thatmademe-forget)

This is me:)Bonjour! College student. Super LOUD, shy.Talker&Listener. Music Lover Boys, Boys, Boys! You should follow my Tumblr or/and Twitter.