when ur friends invite someone u hate without telling u
i saw that girl in the dress that fell midway from thigh to knee.
you called her a slut and when i looked down at my own hemline i wondered what you truly thought of me.
do you remember the rosy lipstick that you asked me not to wear because i was “pretty without it?”
so did you think i was ugly with it?
for a month you needed a haircut but i never said anything because if you like it long you like it long,
but then you said “all i ask is don’t wear your hair up, i like it more down”
as if your opinion was supposed to matter so much to me.
so i’m not sorry for wearing tight dresses or for not holding my tongue.
i’m not sorry for keeping the lipstick
or for making more money than you
or for losing my temper when you rolled your eyes at my convictions.
i was a river and you were a dam;
you should have known i would crash through you.
i was the noise you wanted to silence and the pistol you wanted to lock
and no, i will never apologize."
Chris Evans really gives off the “I have a big dick but I don’t brag about it” aura and I’m about that
Ask him how he can say he loves you but not check on you everyday.
Why he can call you in the middle of the night but not first thing in the morning.
Why he can’t say your name without splintering his tongue.
Ask him where he goes after he leaves you.
Who he’s with when he says he’s at home.
Tell him you don’t trust him.
Tell him that he makes you crazy,
that his half assd attempts at security drive you mad.
Tell him that you don’t like the way that loving him makes you feel, that you wake up every morning aching.
Tell him, you hurt more, you sleep less and it always feels like you are too weighty for him.
Ask him why he can’t commit,
why he leaves and returns just when you think you can live without him.
Ask him why he can’t stay,
Why he’s committed to leaving but not committed to you.
Ask him why you never feel like you can ask him these things?
Why he gets to live weightless,
while you live shoulder deep inside him."
the only domestic instinct my parents have managed to pass on to me is the tendency to hoard multiple plastic bags in another plastic bags despite the fact that I will probably never need this many plastic bags in my adult life