Love When My Pinterest Just Absolutely Decks Me With Something Painfully Relatable

absolutely banger of a sketch i did earlier. potentially a hades and persephone reference?

got offered a mint, a coffee, homework help, knitting lessons, and an edible today. all before 9am. high school.

the intimacy of sharing. of tasting drinks without worrying about waterfalling. of trading sweaters. of leaning in, connected by the wires of my 2016 earbuds. of sharing not just objects but space. your head on my shoulder or my feet up in your lap. of sharing not just space but time. of both of us losing sleep just to talk for 15 more minutes. of sharing not just time but knowledge. the “i wasn’t supposed to tell anyone but” and homework help. the intimacy of letting someone hold a piece of what makes up your soul. maybe even letting them keep it. i think about it every time i let you borrow my pencil.

I miss the butterflies you gave to me

When you let me braid your hair.

You stopped speaking to me

And I don’t know why.

Now I don’t like you

And I certainly don’t love you.

But I am infatuated.

If I could split your ribs,

Tearing you open with my bare hands,

I would curl up in your chest

And lay my head on your heart.

If you were to bring a hammer down

And crack open my chest

I would let you claim that space.

Then you would hold captive my soul

For you already reside in my mind.

So crack me open and burrough inside me

Or let me tear you apart.

Either way

No one walks away

Without a permanent mark.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

i fucking love sam winchester dude.

woah mama means family

as a D1 floater friend, going to a tiny ass high school is weird. it’s like. i know EVERYONE. i play sports, so im friends with the popular soccer players. i’m in advanced classes, so im chill with upperclassmen. i like art, so im friends with the nerdy art kids. and to make it WILDER, my dad works at the school with behavioral kids. so im friends with the skaters, stoners, and even the kids who get suspended every other week that most people are AFRAID OF. i’ve lived here not even a full year and i’ve got a wider circle than some of the mfs that grew up here. and i’m an INTROVERT.

i was having all my friends sign my shoes at the end of the year and i was talking to someone while my friend clara was signing my shoe and i looked down to see that she signed it Osama B. L. and i took fifty fucking points of psychic damage.

i sure hope being gruesomely murdered isn’t ur fetish. it certainly isn’t mine. hope this helps 🫶

“you belong in the kitchen” okay? and you belong in the soup. get Boiled idiot.

how it feels opening tumblr recently