I'm Jess, but you can call me Alaska if you prefer. I like books, nosebleeds, gardens, floral prints, pretty things, spring and Sylvia Plath.

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"It didn’t matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls,
but only that we had loved them, and that they hadn’t heard us call;
still do not hear us, calling out of those rooms where they went to be alone
for all time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death,
and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together."

The Virgin Suicides

I laid back down, wrapped myself up in the sheets
And I must have looked like a ghost
Because something frightened me
And since then I’ve been so good at vanishing

Now I do as I please, and I lie through my teeth
Someone might get hurt, but it won’t be me
Should probably feel cheap,
But I just feel free and a little bit empty



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