I was a Wednesday night, and for the first time in awhile I thought of you, and I didn’t smile, nor did I cry, I just asked myself why. Why you sincerely believe that I am capable of pretending you don’t exist, when at one point I loved you more than I loved myself; even though when it was your turn to love me, you kept me on a shelf, next to every dream you’d ever had that faded faster than a tacky, trending fad. I thought of how you hated when I cried, but I hated when you lied, and you did that more often than not. They say not to leave stones unturned, but I was a stone and I was untouched; so tell me why it is so hard to get your traces off of me. Tell me how I’d feel you in my hair, and how you said you loved when I sang at night, but you were a candle that wouldn’t spark, and I really needed a nightlight. traces. (via cosmicwording)
vagabondsmichigan:

2—-am:

modern baseball in grand rapids
your graduation

Me crowdsurfing in my graduation gown and looking gumpy as all get out.
coolstepdad:

xempty-space:

Real Friends
Vera Project

That was the best high five of my life omg
eyeluggage:

Brand New’s mic stand.
chrysanthem-um:

Major League