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@cheappeach-blog

im a mess and into fashion
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Everyone loves him

Everyone thinks he’s great At most a little socially awkward But everyone loves him Think he’s a fun guy Excited when he enters the room They love that he’s entertaining He’s got a fun personality He can do magic tricks That’s his ice breaker And everyone loves him

So they don’t know That I’m terrified Anytime he enters the room When everyone is excited to see him I have to leave When I see his picture online at night I want to cry I hate the dining hall Because I have to be on alert I take a to go box In case he has dinner at the same time People say his name I need to change the subject I know another person with his name My friend and I clarify to each other The good one or the bad one? She’s the only one who knows I pass him on the street Find a bus and get away faster He’s in the same bus Get off at the next stop It doesn’t matter how far I’ll have to walk Nothing will be the same I’ll always have to fight To not leave my body Anytime anyone touches me And I’ll always have to fight To black out memories Memories of that night The night I learned to hate him But everyone loves him

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reblogged
It seems                            each woman I know has her sexual assault story– her victory, her                           survival.It seems                             each woman I know has her story, she laughs it off– she mocks it in quiet she soon grows                            silent. It seems                            each person I know has their story imbedded in their bones, and it still seems that they ignore– that they laugh they                            deny. I understand,                           when the lights go off– you ignore the monsters under the bed; go on say it they’re in my                            head. I understand                            soon– we all, yes we all grow                            dead.

shes lying, you know, they’re always lying” // bitter, not quitter, tongues, a.c. (via inkedfingertips)

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wordlessity
I had another dream about you. You weren’t there, but it was about you. No one else has made me feel so filthy, so sick, that I spend years trying to wash them off, trying to throw them up. And when I dream about screaming, about my nails sinking into my skin like teeth, it’s always about you.

“Alarm” (111/365)

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thomasrhill
On nights that I finally fall asleep The dreams that create unconscious smiles Hurt me more than the nightmares Of hands held. I Don’t want to Be lonely Anymore.

Thomas R. Hill (via thomasrhill)

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queeranne
This generation is so intelligent. They care about racism, feminism, ableism, and that’s such a positive mentality, but they need to leave room for forgiveness. Nobody is perfect and people are educating themselves at different paces. So be mindful.
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Molly Bair by Brianna Capozzi for Interview Germany

Me in the city

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