you tell me about
the skeletons hidden
in your closets
and i tell you about mine,
hanging on my
cherryyou said you measured your life in color
not bright yellow,
the kind of yellow
that the sun showed
late in the morning,
light and happy
because at one time you were
clear skies and bright eyes
and you said
you almost missed it
almost missed it
except you grew accustomed to
blue like the
bubbling in your eyes which
would be empty
because this was the kind of blue that made you feel
this blue was like
where you felt in between and
you were waiting for something
you really didnt want
or blue like the
that faded into
you recall black
with a snarl
because it wasnt a color
it was a shadow
a black hole
that sucked you in
and made you
nothing but the
shadow that you found home
backdrop to stars,
you simply held beauty
but you could not be beautiful behind the stars
you were not art,
you sat behind it
you said that there were colors you never went
we were carcrashed hearts/you were the end of uslate night
your smile was more beautiful
than all the stars
but you never believed me when i told you
i sang you songs of
love and hope
and you smiled and thanked me
and i wondered what for,
the only reason i wrote them
you with the sunsets
at the tips of your cigarettes
and the oceans
storming in your eyes
you with the galaxies
lost in your bruises
and the petals of roses
slipping through slits in your skin
not everything was beautiful
but on you
it was art
you were my
something worth fighting for
and i was your
the way your hair curled
around your chewed up finger nails
the way your knuckles bled
left lipstick kisses on white walls
the way your lips cursed
the worst of words id ever heard
the bullets the blades
at my head at my arms
they were art
the way your eyes glazed
after long days of smoking and long nights of drinks
the way you smelled
of tobacco and booze and cinnamon sticks
the way your bones and your veins
showed through your skin paler t
i could only write you so many lettersit was bad but getting better
we were sad but sad together
you can't just up and walk away
with everything i had
and everything i knew
they say you can't lose everything at once
and you proved them wrong,
and it's been days of
and i think my heart is slowing down,
willing itself to stop
but you wouldn't care
you never did
it's been a while
i thought i forgave you
i thought i forgot you
but you snaked your way in
through the pores of my skin
the cracks in my skull
the gaps in my consciousness,
the ones lost in clouds of smoke
and at the bottoms of bottles
broken and shattered
but you're back
and you're not even really there.
all i'm seeing are shadows
all i'm seeing are dreams
because you said you'd never come back
yet every night i feel your arms around me
and every morning i feel your fingers around my throat
and every time in between i feel like
you are in my chest
you are the only thing
keeping this dying heart
mad kids clubi don't think i was ever getting better
there were days i could feel
and days when i couldn't
and days where i stifled sobs
and tore through skin
and held my breath
and drowned in gin
but i never said a word
because if you knew
and i never wanted you to be anything less than happy
and quite honestly,
i am pissed.
i bite my tongue so as not to hurt
those who hurt me
i break my fingers so as not to
shove them down my throat
i walk the fine line of
hoping i lose balance,
hoping the tables turn
and the scales tip to one end
because this line is getting hard to walk
and i don't care where i fall
i'm mad that i feel too much
i'm mad i don't feel a thing
i'm mad that no one cares enough to help
i'm mad that i can't tell anyone that i need it
i'm mad that i don't know what i'm even mad at anymore
you fight like the walls are thicker than they aremuffled muffled
you keep yelling
i dont know what youre saying
but its loud
and its angry
and its everything in my head
but a story below
and i can hear you
it was three years ago
when you first brought it up
i cried all night
i went to school the next day and \
smiled like i always did
i didnt tell anyone
"suffer in silence"
every time i thought of it
i came home
i cried myself to sleep again
i can hear you now
but i dont care anymore.
my world isnt shattering as it did
three years ago
i am not breaking
i am not falling apart
i am not melting to tears
as i have before.
and i wonder why
three years is a long time.
i have thought of the divorce.
it never happened.
you guys smiled
and joked like nothing was wrong
for three years
and yet i knew it was coming
the storm ceased,
the stillness after the storm
becomes the clam before the next
and this is it
this is the next
this is the storm that rips up houses
youre in my class but you dont know my nameWhen you tell my story,
tell them I was one of three kids
yet an only child
in that I was the only girl.
Tell them that the home I found
behind cream colored walls
and the kind of wooden fences little kids dreamt of
and in the salty air carried up by ocean breezes that found their ways to me
did not carry the sister I so desired.
Tell them that the sisters I had
were the sisters I found
and not ones of blood but rather
ones of heart.
Tell them how to find family in friends.
When you tell my story
tell them I wasn’t one for dreams,
for my head was often filled with thoughts of college
and test scores
could I live up to
what I had already achieved?
Tell them that
though I wasn’t one for dreams,
every once in a while
one would sneak its way in
through cracks in my skull
through the pores in my skin
through my heart and my soul and snaked up to my head,
one dream, one wish, one want
One day I would have it.
I’d help people.
Maybe a doctor. Maybe a nu
Coffee Shop MemoirsPhilosophers think
We may dream our reality.
With earphones attached liked IVs
I dream my own melodic universe.
Until someone laughs behind me
And strikes up conversation with a friend.
And in that moment they become my anchor
Are they spinning through my dream
Or am I spinning through theirs?
Sometimes life fits in a coffee cup,
Sometimes inspiration pours out slowly like a packet of honey,
And sometimes it all mixes together
Like liquid incandescence that I drink right after brewing.
When no one speaks to me for hours
I begin to wonder
Is everyone dreaming a reality that includes
The whole café but me?
The street outside the window
With passing strangers, dogs and cars
Is a whole new Milky Way
Waiting to be discovered.
But I am no space explorer
Aliens are beyond my reach.
Whispers of the people around
Reach my ears distinctly
Like waves lapping on the shore.
Words on paper go no way
Towards proving that I was ever here
My identity is slowly condensed
Not into the people who kno
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
z.perhaps i was born to be a bird for you,
grey wings sprouting from distended shoulder bones;
the inside of your eyes are darker than midnight,
your hands having bled blue until you could see right through them,
glasslike, they shimmer around my face
& it doesn't matter that they're cold,
the mountain ridges that you've carved for yourself are not something to shy away from,
not something to be ashamed of;
lie still as i run my hands like hikers across your mistakes,
your old certainties,
lie still as i discover how it is that you came to be here now,
so quiet & unsure,
so caught within the old sheet of your past,
lie still as i discover every fuck up you've ever made,
every moment of control that slipped out of reach,
every extra drop of sanity that escaped from your pores.
i have always shivered my way into tomorrow,
too busy searching for something i couldn't find to warm my own bones,
too busy to realize that i was dying of a chill i couldn't cont
tutorialtake an evening -
reclassify emotions as chemical compounds.
remove one atom,
see what changes.
take your field notes, transcribe them
back to front.
add line breaks.
be scientific. be too scientific.
replace the word 'entropy'
with the word 'god'.
be so full of want that you can feel it
scraping its numb jaws against your insides.
write about flowers instead.
make your first line provocative.
follow it, let it unfurl -
inauthentic, try again.
who the fuck
read, find inspiration.
find new ways to plagiarize old ideas.
hash and rehash,
slash and burn.
look at the mess you've made.
spend an hour flicking back and forth -
write about family. if it hurts too little,
write about flowers instead.
use a word bank.
write in the dark.
write from within your own skull.
write your litanies.
write your lines.
Sex Object Between her legs, lies something that
every man seems to want.
A place where she should be able
to call her own, between her legs.
She feels that men only want her,
a true want, to have sex with her, and
The breasts she has, they gain
stares from men passing by, tripping
over themselves to find a chance to touch.
When will she stop being looked at,
as an object of sex? when will a man
see her as someone he may spend his
Her hips curve, and she doesnt
want your hands on them, if your
just going to touch her skin.
She wants a man to touch her soul,
not just touch her skin, and run his fingers
where they do not belong.
What made these men think, she
is just a sex object, a toy that could be
put on display, and taken whenever they
Between her legs, lies something that
every man seems to want.
Proud she is though, that she hasnt
given in, hasnt
I think of youAs suns set afar and mountains flame
And eagles, turning, turn to fire
Ash cold, alone I lie
And think of you.
i met a girl today
who was not golden-haired or blue-eyed,
who was not straight-nosed or full-lipped,
who was not long-legged or slender.
instead i met a girl
who sang full-bodied notes in both soprano and alto,
who spoke like a king and walked like a queen,
who had a body curved like the moon.
and that was okay.
i met a boy today
who was not muscular or broad-shouldered,
who was not charming or charismatic,
who was not tall or dark or handsome.
instead i met a boy
who had a memory like an elephant,
who wrote like an angel and drew like Monet,
who could churn out sums like a calculator.
and that was okay.
take a good look in the mirror:
and remember that what you see—
the imperfections and perfections;
the roll of love around your stomach;
the diverging forks at the ends of your hair;
the delicate sprinkles on the bridge of your nose
—is only one layer of who you are,
all of it
(all of you)
is okay, too.
Reasons We Love Homestuck“Reasons we love H O M E S T U C K.”
Why do this love this web comic, you ask?
Maybe it’s just the way the fandom rolls,
or how mean Andrew Hussie trolls.
It could possibly be Eridan’s accent (WWyeh?)
or even Feferi’s keyboard trident. (---E)
Some people say it’s Equius’ broken bows and arrows, ( D →)
but what about Nepeta’s meows and roleplays? (:33 <)
We really do love Sollux’s lisp,
and also when Karkat’s pissed. (FUCKASS!)
Including Kanaya's fabulous lipstick,
it's also Rose's amazing magic.
How about when Dave starts rapping
and Jade Harley begins napping?
We love Vriska’s eight-pupiled eye,
and how John is such an adorable guy.
Or maybe it’s with all the sprites
or how prospit glows bright.
Can’t forget about Derse’s darkness
or Gamzee and all his soberness. (WHOOPS.)
There’s also this thing with Tav and stairs
which he t
Not My Kind of Fairy TaleDon't give me the Knight
Whose armor shines so bright.
Give me the Knight,
Whose armor is dull and broken.
Whose horse is weary,
Whose heart is heavy.
Give me the Knight who looks at the dragon with pity,
For that dragon has done nothing,
And is just as imprisoned as the princess he guards.
Don't give me a princess who only wishes to be saved,
By that Knight whose armor shines so bright.
Give me the princess who wishes to escape yes,
But wants to free the dragon,
Who does not wish to marry her savior--
Nay, give me the princess who wants to explore,
Who wants to live and to learn.
For the years of imprisonment only made her yearn,
Not for the Knight whose armor shines bright,
But to see the world and live in the light.
Do not give me the evil dragon,
Whose soul purpose is to give that bright Knight something to fight.
No, give me the dragon who is weary,
Who longs for the freedom of the sky,
Whose leg is burdened with chains,
And whose heart aches for the princess he must guard,