poem-porn: “what am I going to do?” she said 
she lost her best part 
she lost her love 
she lost her world she said, “dreams are better than the reality.” 
as the time passes by she realized some things 
she realized nightmares are also dreams 
and that realization made her cry she cannot run away …

He fell for an eighteen-year-old girl with one of those deepdown, spooky loves that made him so sad and so happy he shot her just to keep the feeling going. Toni Morrison, Jazz (via heroincest)

Depression in summer is weird. It’s not dark and brooding, for me – it’s white and hazy and confusing. You feel very absent from everyone and everything. And all the light seems a little too bright for your tired eyes. Broke thoughts (via allysadiazz)