ok, i don’t know how to use this..
-slowly clicks the ‘x’ at the corner of the browser-
tumblrbot asked: WHAT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER WHEN YOU ARE IN A BAD MOOD?
this question sucks.
sad face.
i wish i were a unicorn who pooped butterflies, and lived in a magical land with nothing but rays of sunshine and fairies. who am i kidding, don’t we all?
<-it’s true, better believe it.
Small, simple, safe price. Rise the wake and carry me with all of my regrets. This is not a small cut that scabs, and dries, and flakes, and heals. And I am not afraid to die; I’m not afraid to bleed and fuck and fight, I want the pain of payment. What’s left, but a section of pygmy sized cuts. Much like a slew of a thousand unwanted fucks. Would you be my little cut? Would you be my thousand fucks? And make mark leaving space for the guilt to be liquid. To fill and spill over and under my thoughts. My sad, sorry, selfish cry out to the cutter. I’m cutting trying to picture your black, broken heart. Love is not like anything, Especially a fucking knife!
-the used