But women can never be careful enough, can we? If we take naked pictures of ourselves, we’re asking for it. If someone can manage to hack into our accounts, we’re asking for it. If we’re not wearing anti-rape nail polish, we’re asking for it. If we don’t take self-defence classes, we’re asking for it. If we get drunk, we’re asking for it. If our skirts are too short, we’re asking for it. If we pass out at a party, we’re asking for it. If we are not hyper-vigilant every single fucking second of every single fucking day, we are asking for it. Even when we are hyper-vigilant, we’re still asking for it. The fact that we exist is asking for it.

This is what rape culture looks like.

This is what misogyny looks like.

― from What Happened to Jennifer Lawrence Was Sexual Assault  (via catagator)
for once, it would be nice to have someone who stayed
― 2 am on a friday night. (via avggie)
every time someone leaves you, they take a piece of you away from yourself and they leave you a piece of themselves. you can feel it like coal burning holes in your chest. every fiber of your being is livid with sadness. these times are rough and they hurt, holy shit, they hurt. but these times are also a time to discover who you are. the piece they leave you is not a burden, but a lesson. use it. reconfigure the structure of your being and solder that piece into the cracks and give it meaning.
― things my mother taught me (via avggie)

after i gave myself up to him,
he asked, “are you scared?”
i answered, “of what?
he turned to me and said,
“that i’ll never talk to you again after tonight.” to which i said, “yes,” and closed my eyes.
i rested my head on his chest and he told me, “i wouldn’t do that to you.

I’ve not heard from him since. I’m a mess.

the boy who loved me for just one night - a.g.

(via avggie)

Growth is painful. Change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying stuck somewhere you don’t belong.
― Mandy Hale (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
Sleep don’t visit, so I choke on sun, and the days blur into one
And the backs of my eyes hum with things I’ve never done
Sheets are swaying from an old clothesline
Like a row of captured ghosts over old dead grass
Was never much, but we’ve made the most
Welcome home…
― Radical Face, Welcome Home (via introspectivepoet)