MelancholyMelancholy6 years ago in Horror More Like This
Most tiresome and scintillating pathways
Toward endlessly intoxicating lights,
Glow longingly for better days,
And the want of a nail for horseshoes rotten
With the taste of blood and the steaming scent of regret.
A purple eye and blood-stained thigh,
And something better, maybe soon.
A punctured heart and knotted veins,
And telltale signs of wishful thinking
For love in the morning, and the lights on at night.
messages.it's twenty degrees outside, and when he breathes into the air, the smoke spells sex.messages.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
but not the loving kind, the kind where taking a shower just isn't enough to get the smell of him off of me.
he's all wrapped up into disney movie, magic shit. when i know that he is just some dirty subliminal message, and i'll get sucked in.(but i'll tell myself it's not my fault, because my sub-conscious should be more aware, and i'll pinch myself to make sure i'm sleeping.)
i know that's not right. (anything to keep me asleep)
if and when he holds my hand he squeezes 3 times, and that means "i love you." and i am aware that i should squeeze back 3 times because that is just courteous to do. but for some reason i squeeze once, and that just means, "okay."
(there is this part of me that wishes my subconscious could catch
bipolar hearts.we use to watch Fight Club together, because she said that it made her feel a little less alone, and i could never reply so i held her in my lap.bipolar hearts.4 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
and she told me she was kalea's dizzy mind.
and in real life, you would think nothing of anything really, because she watches the birds fly just like you do. the morning rises on the same side of her window, and she can watch the clock tick away hours, just like you.
and she told me she was kalea's spinal cord.
i watched her pick at her fingernails for too long, and always decided i would leave as soon as they started bleeding. her arms are full of scars where she thought she felt something crawling up her skin, only to find she was still alone. i told her i was here, but she turned over(and i can still hear her uneven breathing)
and she told me she was <i>
lightening bolt eyes.he has lightening bolt eyes and one fucking killer smile.lightening bolt eyes.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
let me introduce you to whom i call "fire-fly."
he has ice white skin and something about the way his hair falls that makes me wish mine would conform to such a beauty.
looking at you for so long makes me feel. Really feel.
he calls them fire-flies but i say lightening bugs.
fire burns hot against his skin, and i can feel the heat in his heart
but lightening bolt eyes can destroy you.
but god, it's so beautiful first, but only at first.
he calls me his "freckled girl" and i call him my heart
and he says that i shine underneath the sun
like it was made for me, and only me
but he has telescope eyes, and those can see to the stars.
he has razor blade hip bones and they stab into me while i dream
lightening bolt eyes and freckles like stars
and in my bed at midnight is the perfect galaxy
and for a second we make one constellation
9.11 is...9.11 is...5 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
The day I died
You were listening to the hand stains slapping against skin
The day you died
I was executing an electronic rythm with it's corpse
To explain the way I enjoy hand wrapped sponge cake
Would be...practically inpheasable
Light and dark is starting too
bring us down, wouldn't you agree
Eh hem...turn off the lights will you?
To say my head is hurting
Is the equivelent to saying
We all have aquirred a taste for champagne
Which is not as good as it sounds
still.one.still.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
her name is alice. there is a slight blood stain on the valley where her lips part, and her eyes are two supermassive black stars that can't show anything but hurt. she can't bring herself to look in the broken mirror puddles that are all over the ground.
(and i don't blame her)
she borrows her mother's raincoat because it smells like home. not the homes that are flooded with laundry soap or soft candles burning in the family room, but more like the paint she spilled on the carpet, or the whiskey on her father's breath.
(and sometimes, she swears she can smell her mother's sadness.)
when alice was little she remembers playing freeze tag with her mother. she remembers feeling anxious, and now she feels sick. "if daddy touches you, stay still, and don't make a sound."
Semilla de paz 1Lucián es un entrenador Pokemon que nació en el pueblo de Altomare, era alto para sus dieciséis años, tenía cabello negro y ojos de un color café claro, signo de confianza cuando conocía a nuevas personas, además de tener una piel ligeramente bronceada.Semilla de paz 14 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Daría era una entrenadora que nació en la Ciudad Slateport hace quince años y contando, su cabello era de color castaño y tenía unos ojos color verde esmeralda que podrían hipnotizar al que los viera
Ellos dos tenían bastantes cosas en común: ambos habían estado en más de una región y acababan de participar en la Liga de Hoenn, donde Daría avanzó una ronda más que Lucián luego de una batalla demasiado reñida, ambos habían decidido caminar hacia ciudad Slateport, donde Daría se vería con su familia y Lucián tomaría un Ferri a su Ciudad.
Ambos estaban c
watching you spin.you're a disco dancing, drama queen with dirty hair and the permanent smell of stale cigarettes. but god, are you beautiful, twisting and dancing under circular lights,watching you spin.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
and vomiting when you're done.(acid does some crazy shit)
your hair was once blonde and beautiful like your eyes, but now it's laying in clumps almost everywhere, because you fucking pull out a strand whenever i'm around, i don't know why i do that to you.
but i never really ever offer to leave, either.
there's that one song that i always hear you listening to, it's the same old shit about love and loss and never being able to forget that special someone, i use to get mad at you for giving in to such conforming types of art.
but now i just let you go, because last time i actually made you cry.
"would you rather fly, or read minds?" i told you i'd rather read minds, and know what everyone thinks, because you can fly on a plane anyday, but no one ever thinks the same.
william.dreams make him vomit.william.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
he has spider-leg fingers and eyes so cold they could stop your heart.
(and they will.)
every night william goes to sleep knowing that someone else is waking up with his only friend, and he wishes he could brush the honey-stained hair from her cheek.
(not the man, who can't even spell love without cheating.)
william dreams at night.
his spider fingers are creeping up the jagged edge of her spine. her skin is the color of milk, and lightly freckled. william keeps her safe, and has made a tiny door, where he keeps her in his heart.
(he wakes up next to an empty pillow, with an empty feeling)
william writes a book in his nightmares.
she is in every chapter. her legs stretch across every page, and taunt him with sex, and things that spiders are not allowed to touch. she holds