Memories.
Just scattered on the floor.
Past lovers, friends and people from parties I cant even remember.
Trees and flowers,
Grass and leaves.
My past.
Sometimes, the fairy tale life you think you have ends up just like a nightmare.
i looked at your room
for the last time,the dried rose
petals
used condoms
beer caps
and ticket stubs,the remnants of
something that didn’t work
Reblogging this just because I think it deserves more notes than stupid hipster shorts get or a pretty girl does.