iwishhiwasacat

If we didn't have lips, I'd still find a way to kiss you.

so every friday morning i have therapy with my mom and every friday morning there is some reference to the following things my cutting and my moms graves and every friday morning when those two things are brought up i can’t help but get frustrated we are in family therapy to move on and fix our relationship not stew on the things that fucked it up every friday morning i end up reminding my mother that she causes me anxiety every time she opens her mouth or looks over my shoulder every friday morning i end up reminded that my mother has a disease that eats away at her soul her body her confidence her health every friday morning i wak

You told me you were proud of my ability to not allow people's opinion of my appearance sway me, and to not waste my time on those who focus on that alone. But for some God damn reason I cannot get rid of you. If you cannot accept my scars my clothes my makeup my hair my piercings my tattoos my phases, then you do not deserve me. I have no obligation to love you if you do not act as though you truly love me. j.r.

How am I supposed to find a man who loves me when my own family cannot even accept how I dress? j.r.

That's what whores wear. Your skirt is too short. Your shirt is too low. You look prettier with makeup. You didn't even do your hair. You wouldn't make it on your own. What if instead of telling young women what they're doing wrong, you should praise them. Tell them how great their legs look in heels, not that they're too tall. Tell them how lovely their eyes look, instead of how much makeup they have on. Tell them how strong they are rather than reminding them that there are other fish in the sea. We are raised to please others, not the people that matter: ourselves. j.r.

Today you told me that I did not look "presentable" It isn't the first time you've said it. But when you said that to me in my sweater and jeans, I realized that you were wearing the same thing. And that got me thinking; if we are wearing the same thing, what makes you more presentable than me? Is it that I do not have makeup on? The fact that my hair wasn't peeled from a magazine cover? Or is it because you refuse to see the flaws in yourself, so you point mine out to me. Are you so blinded by my imperfection that you cannot see your own? That must be it because we are both wearing jeans and a sweater. j.r.

Every raindrop that slides down my window, every creak that escapes from my floor, every sigh that seeps from my vents reminds me of you. j.r.

To me, love is universal. I love the way the sun warms my skin; I love the sound of your heartbeat. To me, you are love; you are my universe. j.r.

You make me write these stupid love poems. I hate you. You make me feel these stupid hollow feelings. I love you. j.r.

I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I love you and I swear this is not the end. j.r.