If this gets 50,000 notes by New Years, I won’t commit suicide.




I don’t want your sympathy through this post. I just want to know if people actually give a fuck about me. I know I won’t even get one note, let alone 50,000.

forever reblogging this because youre too perfect to ever do that ok ;_;


(via thelyssymarie)

if only people could be snowed upon

it is really cold outside today

and the children waiting on the bus stops have their scarves and mittens

i bundle in oversized sweaters

waiting for the snow to come

to blanket everything in white

crystals like a fresh start

like a blank page for writers

like a blank easel for painters.

i wait for the snow to come

shower everything with innocence and purity

with not knowing and not needing to know

what lies underneath (the blanket of)

whiteness, stillness

because the bears and the squirrels are sleeping,

because there is nothing for them to take,

the landscape is safe.

if only people could be snowed upon

i wouldn’t have to hide in layers of oversized sweaters

to protect my frail body

from the cold outside.



In this delirium;

sometimes i forget who i am

so i wander down

the asylum hallways

trying to find myself

amongst all the other crazies

and the other 7 billion people out there

in the yonder gray.

I forget to smile

when the days are bleak

and start blurring again.

sometimes i forget the season is autumn

And i thought the trees

were burning, burning

the blistering leaves, red.


(via ajdakjsnafj)


I always dread the first day of school

because teachers always call roll

and I have to raise my hand.

 “Just call me Meg.”

Because Margaret is what is listed

but it’s too long and big and bulky for

a height-challenged skinny girl like me.


Then they call me Megan,

which I don’t really mind,

but apparently my friends do.


Most people call me Meg,

or Megasaurus if you really want to,

because Margaret isn’t even mine

You see, it belongs to my mother

and grandmother and

who knows what other

familial member on my maternal side.

I would change it to Meg when I turn eighteen,

but that would only make them angrier.


I guess that means

my middle name, Ann,

isn’t mine either

because it

belongs to my father’s mother,

but I don’t really mind

because she was the nice grandmother.


So just call me Megasaurus or Meg

I don’t really care

as long as it’s not

Peggy please.