Destroying myself.

Sammi, 20, Australia.
Instagram: sammihickey


My Pictures.

It’s kinda sad isn’t it?
That someone could hurt you so much that you have to write about it.
July 7th (via la-m0rt)

(Source: demorxlise, via ecstacyy)

if you’re laying next to your lover, grab her ass hard, but kiss her forehead gently and say, “i’m grateful to have you”. that’s your queen.
Scottie Waves (via kushandwizdom)

(via before-it-ends-me)

I gave so much to someone who never appreciated it.
10 word story (via nhprep)

(via leventricule)

It’s amazing to me that I am told to get over the assholes but the assholes are never told to stop being pieces of shit.
Fashion model Chrissy Teigen, in response to critics who called her fat (x)

(Source: hsym, via samos-a)

Don’t kiss me if you’re afraid of thunder. My life is a storm.
Anita Krizzan  (via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: quotethat, via sami-someone)

I care so much I’m sick.
Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 (via murmurrs)

(via sharingbeds)

Anonymous: You post all this sad stuff about guys, but you say you are so in love?

I am very much in love, but love isn’t always easy.

I recall clearly the feeling of going out into the city each Saturday night looking for love, hoping I’d find her at a bar in a dark room where the music was loud and the drinks were strong and the flashing lights pounded upon our cheekbones like a sculptors chisel on marble, and I’d find her, on the wall, with a short black straw between two full-blooded lips and she’d say, ‘I’ve been waiting too.’ The two of us would leave that life behind, fall in love, travel the world, get married, have children, live a life. However, what I have learned is that the city is no place to look for love, rather a refuge for those among us who have found it, but lost it, or let it go — a small dark room crowded wall to wall with neon light and spilt alcohol, all of us, just abandoned loveless souls, dancing to forget who we’ve lost.
Beau Taplin || You wanna find love then
you know where the city is.  (via afadthatlastsforever)

(via bloodyshithouse)

He leaves. You take a long shower, try to wash him out, between the fingers, your neck and your bottom lip, you watch it all spin down the drain. You step out, towel off, and for a moment, you think it’s all going to be okay, the worst of it is through. Then the sickening truth: He’s still there, everywhere, it still fucking hurts.
Beau Taplin || Long showers.  (via afadthatlastsforever)

(via bloodyshithouse)