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.
You’re just an outsider. You’re nothing. Yet somehow, you made yourself something.
I will miss the train ride in
im at THREE as of today :’)
ur always around to one up me aren’t you
don’t get it twisted like i respect bugs for being the best they can be in spite of their specific assigned flesh prisons and their ecological significance but they need to stay the fuck away from me
honeymoon is an interesting term because an actual moon made of honey would imply space bees which is pretty horrifying
Ahahaha I feel like I kind of copped out because I’ve been getting asked for Potter!Punks for ages, and never really was able to draw something I was satisfied with and now these are only busts instead of full bodies. OOPS. Sorry. Maybe one day I’ll do full body images, because I have about a million more tattoo ideas.
boys= nasty and dress bad
me= somehow still likes boys and is disappointed in myself and thinks i should do better
There was no waking from this nightmare, no comforting whisper in the dark that he was safe really, that it was all in his imagination; the last and greatest of his protectors had died, and he was more alone than he had ever been.
i looked so good today B)