summertime sadness
Julia, 18 Australia
302 / REBLOG
If you asked me what anxiety was like, I’d probably respond with some poetical bullshit I’d stolen off of someone else and made it look like I had a fantastic mind. I guess to me it’s like standing on the edge of a cliff with someone holding a .44 Magnum revolver at the back of your head and telling you that there’s a safety net at the bottom, but as you look down you can see there is not safety net, and you say so, but they tell you if you don’t jump they’ll kill you anyway so you might as well risk it.

You can tell me to
get over it
When you’ve forgotten
how to breathe
When each breath
feels like
your last

You can tell me to
get over it
When you have
horrible thoughts
going around and around
your brain at
100 
miles per hour
24
hours a day

You can tell me to
get over it
When you’re body
stops functioning
When you can’t stop
sweating
but you’re -100 degrees

You can tell me to
get over it
When standing
in a crowd
can induce something
that literally feels
like you’re going
to die
in that second

You can tell me to
get over it
When these things
are constant
When the only release
you get
Is when
you sleep
Of course, that’s
when you sleep
Which lately isn’t
very often.

201 / REBLOGsunflowerporn:

Panic attack/ anxiety
Don’t tell me that you love me, because anyone can tell me that. Tell me that I make you tear up with anger and frustration, but at the end of the day you still want to lay down next to me, put your arms around me, and sleep.
304 / REBLOG
929 / REBLOGthebubblingcauldron:

My copy of “A Witch’s Bible” arrived today! Yay! :)
37 / REBLOG
48 / REBLOG
9 / REBLOG
I don’t want anything from you, at all. I just want to be the person you choose to sit next to in a room full with all the people you have known.
16 / REBLOG
I will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
359 / REBLOG
I just want to tell you, at some point it doesn’t matter who was right and who was wrong. At some point, being angry is just another bad habit, like smoking, and you keep poisoning yourself without thinking about it.