little eyelash

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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

special place in hell

all the flowers died so i boiled them. i forgot to water them because i love you. there’s a special place in hell for people like this. I boiled the flowers until the color ran from each petal and the room steamed like a rose. it’s 2018, and we’re here to experience it all. don’t just run through my hair, put a piece in your mouth too. taste it for me. god I fucking love you. I’d do some ugly shit for you. others have asked. I’ve mangled myself six times over. when the flowers were drained and I had nothing else to add I poured the scalding water down my shirt and imagined your beard, and the heat rolls over me. I start every morning with the bright, burning image of your mouth and carry it near my breast the rest of the day. lotion the flames licking my heels. extinguish nothing your teeth haven’t grazed. prove to me this shit means more to you. skin leathers and shrivels to feather dust, but it warms me just the same. bite through and I bleed. this is what hell feels like.

abstract writing poetry flowers lovesick hell

tiny tiny world

more often i’m catching glimpses of myself inside a smaller world. while making snacks sometimes i go to the bathroom and another door opens. the house is full and it’s christmas and i don’t tell anybody. i think, ‘no one in the world knows where i am right now.’ how dramatic i am alone. hum hum hum. i study my face in the mirror, i chew on my hair. everything i do is a memory. i wash my hands thorough because i should and because i want to (isn’t it lovely when shit can be both?) and it smells good. smell smell. adjust my pants. c’mon jesus, pay my bills or return me to dust. adjust. move my eyebrows around and press the mirror til my fingertips leave a slick. yikes. a soft-edged world. i think on mostly the same things, whosit’s men killed so-and-so, except no one’s allowed to watch me think them. c’mon jesus, give me one image crystal clear. i fold beneath pressure i create. i make eye contact with myself and hold it only half the time. kid, it’s real. god bless the peace i can afford. i’m searching for the space i’m only half sure is there. 

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lesbiangaara

hey kids if ur parents are abusive, dont be surprised if they suddenly change all their behaviors when u finally move out, if they start acting very nice and never even allude to all those times Before when they were treating u bad. this is a form of gaslighting and if u plan to keep distant from them as an adult, this may well be the defining characteristics of ur interaction w/ them. it’s tough to navigate this, because u will almost definitely wonder: was i abused? listen… when u sit in ur own home someday, maybe w/ a loved one, and things feel good, and the past feels far away, ur abuse was not made up. ur parents really did those things, and whether or not u want to keep them out of ur life or form a new dynamic w/ them, that’s up to u. but never let them make u believe they were always good to u.

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