This is a brand new start; clear body, broken heart*.
omg i fort basement wuz a clothin lien
(Source: dragonballdead)
This is a brand new start; clear body, broken heart*.
omg i fort basement wuz a clothin lien
(Source: dragonballdead)
(Source: endorphin--addicted, via bigmouth-strikes-againn)
(Source: quemaria-la-ciudad-entera)
The car is on fire, and there’s no driver at the wheel. And the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides. And a dark wind blows. The government is corrupt, and we’re on so many drugs; with the radio on and the curtains drawn. We’re trapped in the belly of this horrible machine, and the machine is bleeding to death. The sun has fallen down, and the billboards are all leering. And the flags are all dead at the top of their poles.
It went like this:
The buildings tumbled in on themselves
Mothers clutching babies
Picked through the rubble
And pulled out their hair
The skyline was beautiful on fire
All twisted metal stretching upwards
Everything washed in a thin orange haze
I said, “Kiss me, you’re beautiful -
These are truly the last days”
You grabbed my hand
And we fell into it
Like a daydream
Or a fever
We woke up one morning and fell a little further down
For sure it’s the valley of death
I open up my wallet
And it’s full of blood
—gy!be (via etthjartasvart)
in a world with no beauty and no love to share
she knew the storms, were coming all along
killing something beautiful
the broken red bricks turned to blood, running down the walls.
her loved ones burst into flames and i wish i could join them to.
fading away with the scarlet skyline, pray for the sun to set earlier every fucking day
rotting away, the price of love we pay
(Source: poppunkposts, via kalltvatten)
Ge mig en karta så jag vet vart jag är
Ge mig en karta så jag vet vad som är upp och ner
Ge mig en karta så jag vet att jag kan gå
Ge mig en karta så jag kan somna om
har förstört allt med min finaste vän och nu förstör jag allt med den finaste flickan jag någonsin träffat.
(Source: showthemtheyrewrong)
i could be the knife in your backs,
the noose wrapped around your necks
the bullet racing through your skulls