March 2012
February 2012
“Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I’m not going to...”
– Charles Bukowski (via runawaytrain)
1 tag
His words burned like poison on an open wound. Yet I continue to take the blame for the way I was scorned. I accepted those words, embraced them as if they were created then and there to describe me. I was the creator of those foul names, I gave them meaning. I was their meaning. Sometimes, when we bring it up, I remember that I am nothing more than the sum of those words and the way they made me...
