it was sunday night when you broke
the silence by asking me what i was
thinking about, and i admitted that
i was thinking about the rain before
leaning my cheek on my palm and
turning my head towards you, and
i asked you what you were thinking
about,

and it was quiet, and you unbuckled
your seatbelt and shifted your body
and admitted that you were thinking
about me, and when i leaned over the
console and placed my hands on your
neck; when you pressed your forehead
against mine without smiling; when we
just stared at each other and you silently
told me that maybe we really weren't
just friends,

i was thinking about you, too

On average, 1 person commits suicide every 16.2 minutes.

How many more people have to **** them selves before society realizes some thing is wrong?

How many more kids, trapped between highschool walls, decide the only way out is to go up?

How many more news stories?

How much death does it take to prove a point?

How many more people need to see their own blood spill, watching their own life force deplete as they bleed themselves dry?

How many more Amanda Todds and Kurt Combains will it take?

How many pills must poison blood streams, slowly killing it’s victims from the inside out?

How many ropes must hang from ceiling fans?

How many more people need to lose their best friend?

How many more mothers lose their son?

How many fathers must lose their little girl?

How Many, how many does it take for society to realize there is something not right here?

Love is a crazy thing... A crazy feeling. It can be amazing at certain times yet horrible other times..

You may love someone so much that you would take a bullet for them, but in the end, that person would be the one pulling the trigger.

Love is something everybody wants to find, yet when they find their "true love," they still aren't happy. Even when they find the one thing they've been looking for...