The love fades against a color’s change.
The loss shakes against the cold.
Tearing pieces from my decrepit skin.
Just to try and keep you warm.
everyone is embarrassed of their fourteen year old self trust me if you’re fourteen right now you will regret whatever it is that you are doing at this moment
What, being a SuperWhoLockian, Tumblrian, and just being generally pretty good? I don’t think so.
screenshot this and look at it in 3 years