A rooster
These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold--though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when the Messiah is revealed to the whole world.

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"Nobody seems to notice I can’t handle this loss on my own.” /// r.i.d

"Nobody seems to notice I can’t handle this loss on my own.” /// r.i.d

I thought you held
fire in your palms
because you walked through a door
and all i could think was
“oh god oh fuck
i’m already gone”

and sometimes i look at you and
there are somehow too many words
inside of me while at the same time
not a single one seems strong enough
so i end up just mumbling or staring or
kissing you,
and you always laugh in that way you have
that sounds like you’re spilling over with joy
and you ask me “where did that come from”
even though every good thing i have ever done
has come from you

and sometimes i get tangled in the bad stuff and
our palms disconnect and i usually end up
crying in your lap about something small that happened
and you end up having to babysit your little
walking time bomb
yet again
and i always end up feeling bad about making you
put up with that and we always end up
somewhere on the interstate where i beg you
“please find someone who can actually make you
feel good”
and you always end up saying something like
“please stop asking me to cut myself in two”

i’m sorry i’m so much trouble. i just
don’t think
i deserve you.

Me and my girlfriend just had a fight.” /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)
Nothing would have changed the reality that the person you were in love with had stopped loving you somewhere along the line, whether it was in the middle of a conversation or while driving under a bridge or when they made eye contact with someone new and wonderful. It doesn’t matter. Stop wasting your time on them. You don’t need to stop your story just because they are no longer a main character. Do not take back what has already poisoned you. Instead start healing and start healing soon.

Raquel, How to stop loving someone who does not love you (via larmoyante)

ah thank you very much for liking this quote of mine!! :)

Where others saw ruin
and black nights
and spite

you looked into my eyes,
and whispered,
“you’re so full of life.”

From the pen of the fantastic Inskinned (via nakedhipstercircus)

Ten word poem based on: “He kissed me and then never spoke to me again.” (r.i.d)

Ten word poem based on:He kissed me and then never spoke to me again.” (r.i.d)

i never started smoking because my father’s teeth
are stained yellow-orange and there is a persistent crow
living in his chest which
constantly rattles its feathers whenever he tries
to speak

i was always cautious about drinking because my mother’s uncle
died with his liver shouting for revenge
as his body coded on a hospital bed
so i space out the times i take shots and i don’t give in
if it’s not a weekend and i keep bottles away from me

but i loved you

and of every addiction i’ve ever had
this one is killing me.

I still love him but he moved on, maybe I should move on too.” // r.i.d (via inkskinned)
He whispered he loved me, and the storm in me fell silent.
jenn satsune (via theladysparks)

you kept slicing me into smaller pieces
and i would complain about it briefly
but oh god i was so enraptured
with just the sound of your breathing
that baby you just had to kiss me right
before i had forgiven you

and i’d say “baby i’m too smart to stay” and
you’d say “baby you’re gonna

but somewhere along the line your
golden tongue got tired
and baby when you left me
good lord but i set myself
on fire i mean i begged you for hours
to come back to the doorstep i’d almost
kicked you out of

and i’d say “baby please
i’m too weak to live without you”
and you’d say “baby please,
you’re gonna
have to.”

You must be a siren because baby you lured me right over the edge. /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)

5 Reasons you should date a girl with an eating disorder:

1. “Her obsession over her body will improve her overall looks.”
Her teeth are yellowing now. Your hands clench tight around your forearms, you peer through the darkness and whisper, “are you alright?” and her head bobs up and down so many times that you can hear her counting the calories of each movement behind those cold dead eyes and you say “do you want my jacket” and she’ll be shivering and say no she’s fine no she’s fine no she’s fine or maybe you lose sight of her at the party and when you ask her friend all you get is “she’s probably throwing up” and when you say “oh no oh no oh no” you’ll hear “it’s okay she does that a lot” how about this about yellow paper skin and hollow eyes and blue fingernails and skinny fat and bruised knees and fainting spells and a look of complete guilt because she just finished an entire meal how about that how about hair that comes off in flakes how about her tears as they stain your shoulder how about those late night texts that say “i think i’m gonna fucking kill myself”

2. “She costs less money.”
Therapy and back again with no red riding hood just a bouquet of pills she popped into her mouth when she skip-hop-danced right off the path in the woods and met her wolf where he was waiting with wet jaws and hungry bellies and a siren that drowns out everything you’re saying because she’s thinking about when she gets to eat if she ever gets to eat if she never eats again it would be so good but at the same time she wants to eat everything that her fingers close over how many boxes of food has she bought that she threw away surreptitiously she will feel an ingredients list printed on her inside wrist and she will write “waste of everything” inside of it how many rice cakes diet pills laxatives gym memberships diet cokes cigarettes how many times can you touch her softly before she begs you not to put a hand on her thunder thighs mountain stomach cheeks that jiggle when she so much of thinks about running how many dinners she’ll turn down just to wait until the night gets dark enough that she can shove everything in the fridge into the tiny pocket of her skin how many stores can she stock up in how many scratch marks will you count on her body from where she has pinched her fat over and over and over

3. “She’s fragile and vulnerable.”
You forget and you swing her into your arms but the minute her feet leave the ground her laughter turns into sobs she will thrash against you and beg to be put down because no matter how many times you tell her that you’re strong enough to carry her weight the one inside of her is unbearably heavy and stupid things will set her off like she is carrying a hand grenade she will shatter herself so many times her fingertips will peel back from all the glass cuts she gets trying to hold herself together long enough just to have a normal conversation because after four days of eating nothing she’ll call you and in a husky voice ask you to describe your dinner and you’ll hear her breathing over the line get deeper and one day after four hours of shoving her face with everything in reach she won’t call you at all because she’s a fat pig who doesn’t deserve love doesn’t deserve anything and she’ll chase down all of these feelings with so much liquor that she has an excuse to put her head in the toilet and when she finally starts crying it’s because she can’t get her gag reflex working and you will have no idea until you see the bruises on her hips the next morning where she swung down her fists until her hands shook too much to make a good impact she won’t let you save her she’ll crumble all over the place and keep telling you “please god stay away i love you can’t you see that i’m trying to save you from me”

4. “Probably has money of her own.”
her parents won’t speak to her about anything but college applications and she thinks she triggers her sister just by existing and her friends might all have a bet going about how long it will take her before she either ends up in a hospital or ends up getting better and when she gives you gifts they will come with a steady heart that ends up with shaking hands because she’ll ask you if it was okay if it was a good choice if it’s something that you wanted if it was good enough and you’ll have to say yes every time until the word feels like a dead weight and she’ll keep asking anyway because she’s really saying is that she has given you herself but she knows that she’s decaf light, a coffee girl you signed up for that ended up being burnt and ground improperly she texts you at three in the morning about going for a run at four in the morning about sit ups and at five about how she hasn’t slept in so long that she forgets how to use a bed as someplace other than an early grave and when she does close her eyes it’s just to think about eating and how even though she wants to be normal in the background of her mind at all times is a quiet mp3 that whispers to her about not eating, her phone will come with more fitness apps than contacts she can beg for help from her laptop has sixteen tabs open and they’re all workout videos and dieting tips and clothes that she’ll buy once she’s the weight she’s always wanted she’ll erase her internet history like a pornography addict because people can’t know they can’t see that she’s dying how do you tell someone’s parents “i think your child is killing herself” when she looks perfectly fine in their eyes when last tuesday they told her she could lose some weight when all the binging has put more meat on her bones than her weak brain can carry

5. “She’s better in bed.”
you can’t compliment her she won’t let you look at her she’ll beg you to just turn off the lights and fuck her so you forget how hollow it sounds every time you collide with her she’ll draw blood from you she’ll ask you to hit her to hurt her to call her names she’ll say these things and they’ll sound like dirty fun until she doesn’t let you kiss her lips because she’s staring at the ceiling letting you abuse her in the ways that her mind already does and she’ll get good and drunk before shedding her skin because she can’t think about the things that are shifting in between the cracks and she can’t think about how your hands don’t trace patterns on her hips or collarbones or stomach and whiskey is the only way she can pretend that you’re just overly passionate and not scared that if you put too much pressure on any soft place she’ll start crying again not that she cries loudly or anything but it’s been getting so bad that every time she’s on her back you can expect at some point she’s gonna shine with silent tears and tell you that it’s okay she’s fine she’s just thinking about something difficult keep going it’s okay she’s okay she’s never hated herself for eating for not eating for breathing for wishing she wasn’t breathing she has never hated you for loving her she’s okay she’s just on a diet because that’s what she deserves and when she talks about it with you she’ll call it “eating issues” as if food was just an obstacle and she is just not good enough at navigating to steer through that storm and she’ll never believe it that you love her she’ll tell you “i’m not who you think i am i’m a ghost girl i’m a liar please don’t love me” and is this beautiful is this girl beautiful are you even dating her or are you just the last bridge she has left to burn do you even love her do you even love her do you even know or has her disorder swallowed you whole?

I know it was a while since that horrific article about “Why you should date a girl with an eating disorder” was published, but one of my friends found it recently and it triggered her enough she called me crying and said “I am going to starve myself until I am back in the hospital and I don’t even want to do that I don’t want to be a monster.”  /// r.i.d (please don’t delete this text)
Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I’m not going to make it, but you laugh inside — remembering all the times you’ve felt that way.
Charles Bukowski (via feellng)
Your handwriting. The way you walk. Which china pattern you choose. It’s all giving you away. Everything you do shows your hand. Everything is a self portrait. Everything is a diary.
Chuck Palahniuk, Diary (via ntrvrts)