"drawing!"
20, she/they/he, español/english °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°
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Category: Writing and Poetry
ugly boys have to stick together. I'm tired of loving gods. we pinch ourselves to know is not a dream: it needs to hurt, for it to be real. i want it to be real. that is to say, dont play mother mary with me. mother mary never had sex, and i want us to touch. that is to say, i'm fucking horrible. that is to say, i need to know you're as bad as me. that is to say, love is not a thing gods can under... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
the discontent i usually feel i've attributed to my inability to walk upright and the disease that often haunts my joints- which is to say it's inherited- which is to say most bad things are. which is to say i don't know much about being but i do know about not being and the negative space often found around the hole inside a wall- which is to say everything's easily defined by its negatives- wh... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
it's not the first time i've felt the wind in front of my face, preventing me from walking any longer. it won't be the last. when i consider everything to be okay, i'll try to bake a pie again. Last time I tried, it was years ago and i'm still yet to learn to bake something edible. I worry there are things i will never learn. Things that come natural to others- like baking beautiful cakes, and lik... » Continue Reading
— 1 Comment— 1 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
i've been listening to wild horses by the rolling stones like crazy recently. i miss my old friends, and i miss my old everything. i'm really sad about how fast everything changes. seems like i thought i knew everything at 19 and now at 20 i realize just how little i did. i feel silly, and small, almost twelve again, or even six. i feel like i need my mom's hand to guide me around, because otherwi... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
the sting of a dull knife creasing your skin, and a lover's bites haunting an otherwise perfect neck- i understand i wasn't born for this world. i live in nostalgia and in the way vines find the most inconveninent wall to climb. you'll find me in statues of forgotten heroes and patches of soil gone dark from not seeing the sunshine in so long. i'll find you in morning coffees, in the radiance of t... » Continue Reading
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