I hate when a person says they’ve had a bad day and everyone, instead of trying to cheer them up, enters a competition of who’s had the shittest life

(via asvprock)

"Driving home from Thanksgiving, 5 months after turning a family of four into a group of three.
Sitting shotgun, I was talking about my first girl scout camp out.
One of the many firsts you’d miss.
When I asked dad about sleeping bags, he responded ‘I don’t know… you’d have to ask your mother.’
It was quiet.
At that moment, although I have your lips, father and daughter shocked expressions were Identical. I didn’t talk the rest of the way home. I hate the holidays.
Fast forward six years;
I want to sleep all day.
I don’t want to deal with phone calls from friends moms saying they are here for me, I am not a pity case.
Go to brunch and fawn over your flowers that smell more of funeral home then love.
People say I look like you still. Same smile, same hair.
I don’t remember it before chemo so i’m not so sure.
Next July you’ll be out of my life longer then in, and even though I know it ruined you I still bring that cigarette to my lips, because of the constant reminder they look so much like yours"
- Mothers day ghost-years
July came quick mom. (via publicpools)

(via publicpools)