of a year.
I have worn
under my sleeves,
on my thighs,
running down my cheeks.
This is what
looks like, my dear. Michelle K., It Has Been One Hell of a Year. (via son-et—lumiere)
Taught a gingerbread house class today
How do you explain that split second, fear filled flashback you get as he holds your hands down.
Try finding words for your indecision between wanting him and the physical pain caused by remembering what your past did to you.
If you didn’t sound crazy before, you do now.
Too cute for his own good :)
I miss how weird their parties get