wanderlust.

miserable and magical, in the best way.

The sad thing is.. You never broke my heart when you left. I broke it myself thinking you would ever come back.

—And it’s still breaking. e.t.

and I know I speak like my heart was broken last night
even though it happened last January,
when I thought I was numb from the cold
but I was numb from you
and sometimes everything you left behind cuts into
my tongue and I find myself choking up your name
even though it’s been 3 months since you’ve called
and I’m not sure how your voice still plays in my head
when I can’t even remember how it sounds
and there are scars and bruises all over me that I
could’ve sworn had faded but everyone looks at me
like I’m about to collapse
and sometimes I kiss boys who grab me like they
want to break me and I let them because there’s
nothing left to break
and sometimes they taste like you
and I used to smile like I wasn’t empty
but you’re stuck in my head
and in my heart
and underneath my fingernails
and I’m so sorry but you can’t stay here

—I’m a collection of unsaid goodbyes and thrown up 3 AM “I miss you’s” (via extrasad)

(via krissybeaarr)