Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed.
She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to.
She opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three.
Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap.
Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.

You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.

You say: She was younger than me.
You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.

You say: It’s nothing now.
You don’t say: But it was everything then.

Some things are better left unsaid (via dearalexandra)

(Source: poppyflowerpoetry)

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Excerpt from my journal:
"I jumped in the ocean to make myself feel alive. All I got was cold hands and seaweed in my hair."
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My new bookmark is badass
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shoutout to me for still not having my driver’s license

(Source: bobbyhoying)

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When an American hears the degrees in Celsius


When everyone else hears the degrees in Fahrenheit



oh my god

(Source: robertpicardos)

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Me when I’m forced to go anywhere.
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take me here on our first date
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