today i learned that if i shut my eyes hard enough and go somewhere else in my head i can forget i’m choking on

something sickly that i am simply expected to choke on while you

stagger drunkenly about the unlit apartment and i pray to the

gods that the neighbors can’t hear

the tears sliding down my cheeks while the back of my throat burns and i don’t know why and i

couldn’t tell you why i’m making that noise even if you

cared enough to ask but i just remembered that time i was called a troublemaker for no reason at

all but here i am choking to death in the dark

and my chest hurts so bad it’s like i’m at the bottom of a river again (via shewhofightswithmonsters)
I don’t want to hear that you love me.
I don’t want to hear that you really care about me or that no one else has made you feel this way.
Because I know you could get over it, someday. That could someday be gone without a trace.
And because even if you say I have stirred unprecedented feelings in you, you love me how you were taught to love. You love me how your parents told you to love and how the movies and the books told you to love.
So I don’t want to hear that you love me.
I want to hear that I taught you how to love me. I want to know that you love me in a way that you could never love anyone else, because that is a type of real, honest love that you learned from me. I want to know that I’ve changed the way you see loving anyone at all, not that you’ve worked me into the list of people that you love the way you’ve always loved. I want to know I’ve changed the shape of your heart. I want to know that I’ve shaken your faith in the door-holding, check-paying, flower-bringing, diamond-buying, red-heart, box-of-chocolates, flash-mob-proposal kind of love. I want to know you would love me if there was nothing in it for you. If there was no future in store. I want to know that you would love me if you were the moon and I was the Earth. I want to know that you would still shine soft light on my most beautiful features even if you could never touch them.
My frustrations with knowing you would not love me if I cut off all my hair. (via shewhofightswithmonsters)