undergroundbison:

I live with your ghost

Even though you’re gone
And your stuff is leaving
She still wanders the house
Sadly breathing
Old life into the air
And down my crooked spine
She whispers songs of a time
When you were still mine
And I was twice the man
That stands before you
Because you see
When you left
My ghost followed you too

kelcdanmarie:

My head is attached to my stomach, so when I think my mind sends the morse code,
Down my throat,
past my ribs,
Straight to my stomach to start the pit.
I’ve always imagined teeth would be seen if I could peel back my skin,
I know it’s grotesque and graphic and morbid,
But my brain tells my…

THIS IS AMAZIIIIING!!!!

I graduated high school today.
That’s even weird for me to say.
I’m very blessed to have had the opportunities I’ve been given, between going to college my sophomore year and everything I’ve experienced with music.
I’ve worked hard, and now I have been given the time to focus on music. Couldn’t be more blessed.

I’ve shown this to 3 strangers. They laughed as hard as I did.

(via eshleman)

When things start falling apart, and people start falling out of my life, and plans fail, and it’s just me…I can feel God working.
I’m thinking this Sunday is a good day for church. Something big is about to happen and I want to be ready for it.

I’m going to be very angry if the world ends 4 days before Christmas and I don’t get to see this.

The visuals in this movie…

My brain.

(via trailerparkclass)

reelbearmedia:

want a sneak peek at the footage from twenty | one | pilots’ sold out LC show? check out my revised demo reel!

feel free to share with your grandparents, too. they love this kind of stuff!

Check it.

(via eshleman)

But here we are
Building forts in the backyard
Rolling around the town like we own it
Just because we helped form it
When we were young
But here we are
The door frames hitting our heads
Reminding us that we don’t belong here
We took those roads to different towns
And let our heads swell, our arms grow, our kids die-
So here we are.

How are you in that concrete mess?
I’m doing alright in my greyed out head.
Making ends meet long enough for me to make it to bed.
Using the steam of our memories
To live one more day in misery
Hoping we make it to our death beds with a clean bill, no marks on our heads.

But here we are
Building forts in the backyard.