if seeing is believing, believe we have lost our eyes
(via enamors)
dare:
my mother likes to compare my brother from myself. she says he is warm and loving, always wanting hugs and snuggling up to heated forms in the same bed. she says i am cold and unfeeling, avoidant and constantly vague. she tells me that she worries for us both, that my brother will collapse to the world’s cruelties and that i will forget i am human.