personally i am pissed af that the house she killed herself has been torn down i’m pissed i never knew where it was until now im pissed i never got to go in it

like i understand why its great that its gone

but idgaf imo its terrible that its gone im so fucking angry

if i go through my likes its like lilly is reblogging just as usual  a+ 

please donate anything you can to help with @inmemoryoflilly‘s (Lilly/ Lisa Demello’s) funeral expenses. anything is greatly appreciated

thank you

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XIFtG4JIaHE)

i love you lilly please come back 

i wish everyone would die with their stupid fucking status’s and their stupid fucking faces

Lilly

Sixteen years old and only knowing how it felt to sit on leather sofas and  braid our hair together, tenderly using this pattern our mothers taught us to weave- hope, hopelessness, hope, hopelessness. While she floats across campus most days I am still stagnant in bed, safe and dark.  And yet there are always the nights spent sleeping through snowstorms to remember,  and driving through downtown with our mouths wide open,  all blood, guts, and social suicide we went to all the high school parties,  hand in hand, synchronized. This is Lilly, this is her thing,  making bones ache less,  making people feel as though birds  are flying out of them.  And for all the times I’ve looked to her,  her mouth empty and heart fully  knowing all I have to say, I will remember these things- the queasy and uneasy things our parents wrote off as the growing pains we should have grown out of by fifteen- the texts sent late at night explaining how  she is family to me even if it’s not blood,  how she is more of a home than the house I grew up in.  Sometimes it is hard to show one another this cracked perfection,  but know whether it is the days she burns brilliantly or the nights she collapses into me with a broken body and a thousand questions, she is the most wonderful things I’ve seen.  I will love her as a still day,  I will love her as a hurricane. 

Idgaf I hate how everyone else grieves

I lost something which was my all.

Fyodor Dostoevsky, from a letter to Praskovya Yegorovna (via stoicremains)

I want to rub my face in her skin I want to hug her soft soft soft soft body I want to cry together again How do I deal with things when I cant go to you How do I deal with your death if I don't have you to go through it with

I keep making up scenarios in my head of what was going through her head and how she felt while she was dying alone I understand why This is shit

My best friend is dead So much of me is gone

Inmemoryoflilly is such a clever username Lilly

Tbh I hate how much all of this makes you sound like some statistic for mental illness

i keep ignoring it then i remember and its shit

and if you're in heaven waiting you made it there fighting the tightest kite string in a bad storm with lightning

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WT_bgCcStCw)

and you kissed me right after we sang along

even though i haven't seen you in years yours is a funeral i'd fly to from anywhere

to this line

we stared at this photo for about 3 hours