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She said: “I'm not totally mad at you. I'm just sad. You're all locked up in that little world of yours, and when I try knocking on the door, you just sort of look up for a second and go right back inside.”
she traces road maps of blue veins on my skin, talks about how hungry i make her, that she’d eat me if she could. i wordlessly offer her my arm. go ahead. she gives it only a soft-mouthed bite, but i would probably let her tear me apart, i’d let her do anything.
girls get really good at making a dead thing look alive and girls get even better at making dying look beautiful
you can cover your body in flowers and lace but dead is dead and animals will always smell it
you can cover your body in flowers and lace but dead is dead and animals will always smell it
can any fragrantica app bitches point me to perfumes that first hit you with that divine sacramental bread vibe but once someone gets too close the eucharist turns sour rancid and tastes of heresy instead? okay thanks bye!
i wake up in the night and i look out the window and its so quiet and its so cold and something is always missing and i feel like i dont have a family or belong anywhere anymore and my friends have grown tired of my vacancy and im losing it and its okay and everytime i do laundry i think of packing my bags and i love you so much
it's my primal bite and extinguished aphorism. it's the late night glances praying for earth to be less cold and more clean. it's more than the feeling of being scratched in the back of your mind each time you belong in my skin. because for us, we kiss the hours of gold and few longing. and would you believe it? i am a three-selved woman who dines on your god since you talked to me past two moons now. a clockwise confession i yearned for years but i watched it slowly as it melted holy on your tongue. let me tell you about october, libra. let me tell you about love when the flesh burns and the threshold is nothing but decay.
mid-summer and you ferment on my back like fresh greece and grapewine. say, how do i fill you about desire and still be hungry for it? how do i unclench these fists and not remember each muscle memory limb by limb? fuck the seeds of pomegranate. let no painting drain you and starve the beauty i drink from your juice. i will turn peach and pink for you. even so, this is love. and so, this is softness cleaved in two to tender the grazing part of you of us. what do you say if you stick in my palms and you eat me whole and we never perish after the sun? oh, it's my bloodline bending backwards reaching saturn for ninetynine. it's your first fingers inside me slipping heavy but slow. the late night foraging of our flesh. baby, look at my body now: all sore and sweat. aren't you hungry, oh wouldn't you feed me?
mid-summer and you ferment on my back like fresh greece and grapewine. say, how do i fill you about desire and still be hungry for it? how do i unclench these fists and not remember each muscle memory limb by limb? fuck the seeds of pomegranate. let no painting drain you and starve the beauty i drink from your juice. i will turn peach and pink for you. even so, this is love. and so, this is softness cleaved in two to tender the grazing part of you of us. what do you say if you stick in my palms and you eat me whole and we never perish after the sun? oh, it's my bloodline bending backwards reaching saturn for ninetynine. it's your first fingers inside me slipping heavy but slow. the late night foraging of our flesh. baby, look at my body now: all sore and sweat. aren't you hungry, oh wouldn't you feed me?