freeflying-soul reblogged
the horror section on netflix is straight up garbage it’s literally full of shitty ass low budget b-movies with the exception of a small handful of hidden gems… times are hard for horror fans
freeflying-soul reblogged
freeflying-soul reblogged
not 2 be dramatic but if i don’t lose weight i’m going to KILL myself
freeflying-soul reblogged
just doing a bit of research :)
freeflying-soul reblogged
the scariest thing about having an unreliable memory is like?? was it really as bad as i remember it being ?? what if i deserved it??? what if it was my fault the whole time?? i don’t know!! i can’t remember!!!!!
freeflying-soul reblogged
My therapist: how do you think your symptoms compare to two yea-
Me: I don't remember what I had for breakfast. Two years ago is a far away land and I'm not sure I was alive back then.
freeflying-soul reblogged
i’m bored with myself as a person maybe i should do some drugs or crash a car or stop eating again or pick up a nice smoking habit just to keep me busy
freeflying-soul reblogged
If he touches you, break his hands and laugh.
Michelle K. (via michellekpoems)
freeflying-soul reblogged
You create and surround yourself with chaotic relationships to distract from the mess inside your head
And I’m not calling you a bad person, I’m just saying I can’t be a part of this anymore.
122mg
Source: 122mg
freeflying-soul reblogged
chili-jesson-deactivated2018010
freeflying-soul reblogged
i love hanging out with girls who are also trainwrecks bc i can like vomit all over the side of a car and theyre like We’ve all been there :)
freeflying-soul reblogged
freeflying-soul reblogged
spot ozzy 😻
Source: roseyjones
freeflying-soul reblogged
Source: garoto-seex
freeflying-soul reblogged
Your hands marked me once.
I’m sure you’ve told
everyone who will listen
about the ways I let those hands
speed through the
winding roads
of skin and hair and heat,
and how there were
absolutely
no roadblocks–
no stop signs–
to slow you down.
Your hands marked me once.
I think they are permanently tattooed
on the places I refuse to look
out of fear,
out of spite;
they have mapped
the towns and intersections and boarders
they’ve been, all the while thinking
mine, all mine.
Your hands marked me once.
But I have since planted
flowers where nails and razors
have grazed my surfaces;
I have since weeded through
the thorns that grown
from the grooves in fingerprints.
Your hands marked me once.
And you are lucky
to still have hands.
Michelle K., Translation: I Am Triggered As Fuck. (via michellekpoems)