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this blog contains triggering content.

my name is blossom.
this is my journal.

paper flowers; you are not alone.

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"There’s really no shortcut to forgetting someone. You just have to endure missing them everyday until you don’t anymore."
- Unknown (via hefuckin)

(Source: jehovahsqualitygirl, via sicksadsorrow)

wifipasswords:

Let’s play a fun game called “we’re just friends but I’d fuck you if you asked”

(via annabxl)

(Source: weheartit.com, via kruegerxoxo)

(Source: welcometomylittleweirdworld, via modernprofanity)

tooweirdto-live-toorareto-die:

The Story So Far- Face Value

tooweirdto-live-toorareto-die:

The Story So Far- Face Value

(via fredweasleyisourking)

I stood there as vulnerable as ever, but I had forgotten. It slipped my mind that they were there. That I had hundreds of scars on my body. Sometimes you forget. You forget your past. You forget what you have done. You forget what scars and what freckles are where.

It all came back to me as soon as he said it. He saw them. A scattered fucking mess all over my thighs.

Your legs are hectic”.

He reminded me that I used to try and hide them. I wanted to cover them up. I never wanted someone to see that side of me unless we were close. I fucked up. I stood there, in plain sight, hundreds of scars staring back at him.

Mmm, yeah”.

Anxious. Ashamed. Disappointed. I’ve done it now. I fucked up. I was supposed to hide that part of me, not put it out there in plain sight. For someone to see where my mind has been. I’ve been broken. I’ve tried to destroy myself. Someone saw my vulnerability in plain fucking sight. How can I come back from that?

It’s okay. My wrists are the same”.

And he shows me, and I see myself on his forearm. Now his scars are staring back at me. How are you supposed to feel when you know someone has been through the same as you? When you know their vulnerabilities are yours? Their past is yours.

We lie there. Our arms next to one another. Staring down. It’s an uncomfortable, but an understanding silence. Mine and someone else’s vulnerabilities, and our past, and our emotions staring back at us now. Where do you go from here?

i open my bedroom window when you’re not here

and it reminds me of you

and i can hear the crickets and the wind as i lie here alone

but nothing can replace the warmth of your body

and the touch of your skin

because nothing is the same without you here

(Source: emolynz, via featherpetals)

i keep day dreaming about cutting

i keep thinking about it while i’m away and while i’m asleep

just to slice my skin open once or twice more

before i wake up the next morning wanting it again

now all i can do is lay in my room
fall asleep
dream of you
then wake up and do nothing about it.