you are so pure,
and it has nothing to
do with your eyes or your
smile, everything
to do with your heart,
all torn and weathered on
your shirt for the
entire world to see, so
they can tear it up some more.
you are so golden,
and i fear that you don’t
know how good you are —
oh my, you are so good —
because you cry when
you get home most days, and
you can’t lift your body
from the ground. is your body
heavy from the people
who have walked all over it?
why did no one help you?
you are so kind, so kind,
so kind to everyone
that you forget to be kind
to yourself. —you are so pure and yet so broken // r.e.s (via thoughtsintorhymes)
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