Try explaining a life bundled with episodes of this— swallowing mud, swallowing glass, the smell of blood on the first four knuckles. We pull our boots on with both hands but we can't punch ourselves awake and all I can do is stand on the curb and say Sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine.
*unconsciously touches own boobs in public* *remembers im not suppose to do that*
I think you mean subconsciously
no. catch me at your local walmart asleep in the Ball Cage gripping onto my titties for dear life
Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. Love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves it’s own mark. To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever.
There’s at least 2 million songs about broken hearts, doesn’t mean that they are not good.
thank you satansdirtyslut666
“ᴴᵉʳᵐᶦᵒᶰᵉ ᶫᵃᵘᶰᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳˢᵉᶫᶠ ᶠᵒʳʷᵃʳᵈˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵖᵘᶰᶜʰᶦᶰᵍ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᶦᶰᶜʰ ᵒᶠ ʰᶦᵐ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶫᵈ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰ⋅
'ᴼᵘᶜʰ — ᵒʷ — ᵍᵉʳʳᵒᶠᶠ﹗ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ — ﹖ ᴴᵉʳᵐᶦᵒᶰᵉ — ᴼᵂ﹗'
“ʸᵒᵘ — ᶜᵒᵐᵖᶫᵉᵗᵉ — ᵃʳˢᵉ — ᴿᵒᶰᵃᶫᵈ — ᵂᵉᵃˢᶫᵉʸ﹗”
ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘᶰᶜᵗᵘᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ʷᵒʳᵈ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵃ ᵇᶫᵒʷ﹕ ᴿᵒᶰ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ, ˢʰᶦᵉᶫᵈᶦᶰᵍ ʰᶦˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ᴴᵉʳᵐᶦᵒᶰᵉ ᵃᵈᵛᵃᶰᶜᵉᵈ⋅”
ay u pretty girllll i miss u
ayyy thank u i miss you too!!
psa i looked so good the other night why didn’t anyone kiss me
make me choose
↳ trustingsam asked: luna lovegood or cho chang
"It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew - and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did my parents - that there was all the difference in the world.”
Western Canadian Literature: “The prairie is cold and empty, like my marriage.”
Eastern Canadian Literature: “The sea is cold and empty, like my marriage.”