Hell Isloving You In My Sleepand Waking Up Alone.

Hell is loving you in my sleep and waking up alone.

Unknown (via izumruds)

Im learning to love myself again. This skin is full of scars and they only are a testament to the fact that I’m strong enough to heal.

jadebstokes  (via wordsnquotes)

oldxrsexydangerguy:

                           m o n s t e r s  don’t live happily ever after,                            but when your  l i p s brushed against hers,                                 you almost believed you  c o u l d.

Who’s the real you? The person who did something awful, or the one who’s horrified by the awful thing you did? Is one part of you allowed to forgive the other?

Rebecca Stead, Goodbye Stranger (via errantp)

I think love is how fast you miss someone after they are gone. (P.s. I missed you right away.)

godfathert  (via wnq-writers)

She wraps her legs around your waist. She whispers in your ear. “Stay.” This is your cue to kiss her. Wrap your fingers in her hair; enclose them around her neck. Hard. Just hard enough to feel her pulse, the quiet beat beat beating.  She won’t always be this vulnerable, this open. Right now her trust is in the palm of your hand. This is your cue to pull her closer. Place a gentle thumb on her bottom lip and breathe. “Stay, stay, stay” she says. Tell her you will. Tell her: “okay.”

S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #200 (via blossomfully)