| for my lovely *rachel-rhapsody who should very definitely write me a poem. |
whimsical things
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whimsical thingsshe can't sleep at night, so instead she watches the stars from her bed and writes poetry in the folds of her mind. she watches the sky change colour from darkest purple to a light blue and watches as the stars dissapear one by one. she feels redundant, watching the sunrise.whimsical things
- we're sitting on her bedroom floor and she's got a spoon and a lighter, a syringe and a lack of something to keep her happy. sometimes i think, when we're here, that she should write her poetry down. that she could escape some things. i never tell her out loud though; we just shoot heroin and fuck with the stars. we shoot heroin and fuck with ourselve
by ~BlackMagicBoy
bright eyes - collabthere’s a girl whose lips taste like a half moon and her fingers like the sun, just two minutes and thirty three seconds before dawn. you know the way you feel, when you’re standing outside in the near-dark with a cold chest and cold toes, waiting for the sun to appear from behind the horizon. when there’s a whisper in the leaves and murmurs from the grass, and the mud; it’s filling the gaps between your toes and you’re crying. it is just like her, you think. just like her fingers with cracked nails and calloused fingertips. - there’s a girl whose got bright eyes and makes you think about eating tea abright eyes - collab
by ~BlackMagicBoy
i dont understandhave you ever woken up and not thought anything at all?i dont understand
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somtimes i find myself thinking that 'it'd be fun to go and stand out in the rain' so i do. but once i'm out there i find myself thinking, 'wouldn't it be invigorating to take off my clothes' so i do. but once i've done that, i find myself thinking 'wouldn't it be beautiful to climb on the rooftop', so i do. and then once i'm standing there, i find myself thinking, 'wouldn't it be magical to fall in love' and so i try. i try and try and try but i can't. and so there i am, standing naked on my rooftop in the rain trying to fall in love.
- &n
by ~BlackMagicBoy
bird wings.theres a girl who has irses the colour of running ink. she covers canvasses with blood-red paint and covers note books in everything she wishes she could be. hanging red canvasses on the blue walls in her room sometimes make her feel as though she's burning. when she comes home from school she lays on her bed and she cries, burning from the inside out.bird wings.
- theres a girl who spends her nights curled in a ball, in the park behind her house. her cheeks are decorated in purple-blue-black bruises and her tights are ripped. i want to hold her to my chest and run my fingers through her sienna hair; hold her hands and kiss her finger
by ~BlackMagicBoy
Favourites
musical chairs.june 73, 2009.musical chairs.
hey sweetheart. love the way you strum your starstrings with motivation.
did you staple your skin pores shut and substitute licorice for hair? it looks great on you, with that poisonous sense of ambition of yours. me, i trace stars on to my scalp with the sounds of chromatic scales, a piano with more secrets than fingers and toes to count.
[being the prettiest of all melodies just isn`t my thing.]
we should run out of our murals sometime, like there`s nothing for us here, like the chor
by ~lovestruck-x
what you find in pockets.i am too invested inwhat you find in pockets.
humanity you say. i swallow
the pulse of heat dripping it clicks through coils if there is a fire that i cannot
taste. what then you say. what then.
i am stranded up to you and swaybacked you say. i sigh into a microphone like it is your
stomach and if i am terrified. stop you cut me open you say. if inside i pattern a seahorse.
i am scheduled deep and oh god i filter stars you say. i project currents onto veins
instead i string my soul from rafters. if you sparkle me what is left you
by ~iLISI
this is me breaking downi bet you're beauti ful when you cry; that makes methis is me breaking down
want to kill myself.
by *ohsostarryeyed
rhetorical'this is a heart." 'uhh, okay? wanna put it back where it belongs?' 'do you know where it belongs?' 'surely not in your hands, you're making a mess.' 'but where do these belong?'rhetorical
i point to your chest and press my palm to where a beat should thump. i can feel it pounding,
'whose is it?' 'who'd you think.'
i tilt my head and you pull me closer.
'listen, we have to stop sharing, my hearts' become tired of the excess beats.'
you place your cold fingers on my left breast, your eyes edge towards the empty space in my chest. &nbs
by ~crashcoursewomb
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How are you? Hope that things are great over there
I just wanted to thank you for the watch and support. It really means a lot to me
Thanks,
- Omri
( `leoraigarath )
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Some days I write those words, others they write me.
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it snows only once in our dreams.
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i'm just a canvas paint all over me...
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i'm just a canvas paint all over me...
thanks.
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i'm just a canvas paint all over me...
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