You don’t have a right to speak about heartache.
“You can’t break my heart. It’s liquid. It melted when I met you.”
Fuck my pain away.
Feel nothing.
I love it when you get exited for something, and then it all just fucks up, but at the same time you should have known that you shouldn’t of have gotten all exited because you knew you were going to fail, like usually. Then you try doing something else instead of it, and you get fucked over even more.
(via deardestiney)
You would
Post, post, post, post. That’s all we do.
Stop talking like you know me. You don’t know. You talk like you know all my feelings for you. Stop it. You think I hate you or something.
Sad shit. Sad, sad shit. Fucking friends. This crowd, I don’t like what it’s turned into.