with the way you've been talking, every word gets you a step closer to hell

It’s about control. About being in control, pretending to be. About convincing himself he is in control. It’s about the cramps in his forearms and the burnt in the muscles of his shoulders as he holds tight to that last string of sanity. But then he can’t hold anymore and the rope bites his skin as it escapes from his grip. It wounds, it scars.

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baby, I’m gonna leave you drowning until you reach for my hand

Loneliness has a very particular taste when you add the salty edge of the beach (he writes). There was a poet who just walked into the sea, wanting to die (he remembers). But I don’t want to die (he has to remind himself every time, because that sureness fades when the cold wind of the ocean blows).

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Do you ever just wanna hug someone so tightly to the point where you have absolutely no intentions of ever letting go because you want them to know just how much they mean to you and how much you love them and you just wanna take away all the bad things in their life and replace them with only good things?

my mom always told me that if i held in the sneezes my brain would explode inside my head because of the accumulated air

so, this is the last part of the annoyingly long birthday gift for patchy ♥ don’t worry, i didn’t bake it myself, you won’t die because of it!

part 1 of the shittiest birthday gift for the wonderful patchy, who turned 16 go wish her a happy birthday!