Sometimes when she told stories about the past her eyes would get teary from all the memories she had, but they weren’t tears. She wasn’t crying. They were just the memories, leaking out.
― Ruth Ozeki, A Tale For The Time Being (via widths)
You should be angry. You must not be bitter. Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. It doesn’t do anything to the object of its displeasure. So use that anger. You write it. You paint it. You dance it. You march it. You vote it. You do everything about it. You talk it. Never stop talking it.
― Maya Angelou  (via lardypoison)
How odd, I can have all this inside me
and to you it’s just words.
― David Foster Wallace, The Pale King (via kushtrimthaqi)
Whenever someone tells me
that they are proud of my progress,
I hope someday that my first reaction is
not to slip into regression
just to prove to them
that I still hurt.
― (via beautyinthebellejar)
Sweeping up shattered shards of who I once was and 
mopping up the pieces that disintegrated into empty promises and I scrub the old memories of who he was off of my skin -
everyday I am sweeping and mopping and scrubbing.
 And here I am alone and unable to trust my own judgement and unable to trust my own heart and unable to trust anyone else.


amanda helm.

(via amandaspoetry)
It’s easy for someone to joke about scars if they’ve never been cut.
― William Shakespeare, Romeo & Juliet: Act 2, Scene 2 (via mourningmelody)


Moving from a depressive phase to a psychotic phase is like thinking you’re being dragged into a manhole full of starving yet surprisingly agile alligators and instead it’s filled with cotton candy that has teeth but no ability to bite.