“you tell me that you’re leaving - my knees hit the floor and i’m dry heaving. my hands are calloused from making your home a palace - can we stop with all of this madness? tell me you don’t mean it - please, just tell me you don’t mean it. i have a fist full of pills - so many that they start to spill. the only way i’m leaving this marriage is in a body bag and then let these bones in the soil be a white flag.”— smspoetry
(via acutelesbian)
