wishing-for-deathx:

Now I’m empty. I have nothing to give to anyone. Except for talking about my pain. And since I realize that’s toxic, I’ve simply isolated.

st-a-y:

soie-lux:

City life

wnq-writers:

“I am made of quiet storms washing themselves away.”

— Fray Narte

coffeeacademia:

i find it so beautiful how we all read the same poetry and miss different people