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Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.
― Kait Rokowski (via percontes)

(Source: writingsforwinter)

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do you ever sit in ur friends room and just wonder how many times theyve masturbated where ur sitting

no but now i will and it’s honestly your fault

(Source: waluiqi)

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