sideblog for qvicksiluer of rebuildhq
155 posts
my mom likes to tell me “you have to pick your battles” well im full of rage and im picking all of them
Do not make me love you. I am a riot, and I will ruin you in the process.
whoisstaceyanyway (via wnq-writers)
and behind the mask of m a t u r i t y that you wear, a pair of eyes belonging to a ( CHILD ) stares back at you in the mirror.
you are not a warrior, MY LOVE, you are merely a boy.
Now, do not misunderstand me; when I call myself a shell I mean–a used up bullet casing. As in, the aftermath of something lethal. As in, an echo of inflicted evil.
Amrita C. (via ravenreyse)
I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.
Franz Kafka (via purplebuddhaproject)
You sleep coiled; tightly wound. Hands are fists beneath pillows, clenched above cotton sheets. You are at war, even in your dreams.
Rest Achilles, the world will wait | p.d (via p.d vulpe)
My lungs were never meant for breathing Screaming perhaps, heaving, sobbing even Just something more violent Than a simple breath
112. One day I’ll learn how to breathe. (e.r.)