"Some do drugs, others go out for a run, but at the end we’re all just searching for that tiny space, perhaps a hole, that gives us shelter from the terrible reality of the world."

(Source: koreyan, via vegievixen)

The haunted mind.

Dreams become merely an elongated chapter of her living nightmare.

Every night, she runs through empty alleyways and deserted fields, screaming till her lungs burst. Yet, no one listens. No one even hears her heart aching cries, except for those illusionary street lamps that seem to rattle to the intense vibrations in the air. 

the last straw.

the last straw.

(Source: c--a--s--s--a--n--d--r--a, via tangaled)

the night is serene as the moonlight gently casts its shadows through the half-opened curtains.
at last, she sleeps.
"take me away, far far away," she prayed, to her long lost guardian angels.

the night is serene as the moonlight gently casts its shadows through the half-opened curtains.

at last, she sleeps.

"take me away, far far away," she prayed, to her long lost guardian angels.

(Source: itty-bitty-pretty-thing, via tangaled)

"You are a woman. Skin and bones, veins and nerves, hair and sweat. You are not made of metaphors. Not apologies, not excuses."

Sarah Kay, from “The Type” (via thebeautyinbeautiful)

(Source: burningtulle, via littlewarrior-recovering)

(Source: appr-eciate, via tangaled)

sometimes it just all becomes too much.
the glass shatters, the building crumbles, as the the world dismantles into billions of pieces right before her eyes.
the lonely anthem hauntingly rings in the background.
she reaches out her arm, draping her hand over the edge of the bed as the moonlight projects onto her blue-veined knuckles.
this is it. finally.
she’s done it.

sometimes it just all becomes too much.

the glass shatters, the building crumbles, as the the world dismantles into billions of pieces right before her eyes.

the lonely anthem hauntingly rings in the background.

she reaches out her arm, draping her hand over the edge of the bed as the moonlight projects onto her blue-veined knuckles.

this is it. finally.

she’s done it.

(Source: m-oonflakes, via hug-people-not-toilet-bowls)