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About
taylor.
19 y/o granny in blue leather boots.
“I wanted to write “stay”
on your sides, surround
your bed with oceans
of salt. I hope he folds you
into a fox, loves you
like a splintered arrow,
brandishes the kill
of your lips. May the bouquet
of your hips wither.
May the wolves
forget your name.”
You deserve more than a girl who
won’t use blue ink, not even to tell you
she’s gone to get eggs.
You will take the unfinished beer
as note enough
and swallow the remains.
You deserve more
than her
morning drink, but you will finish it because
you both deserve the poison.
When you go, take the lead
with you, the India ink
and restaurant crayons.
Leave her the blues.
Tell her to promise to write -
know that she won’t.
WHO NEEDS EXTREME SPORTS WHEN MAKING GROWNUP PHONE CALLS GIVES ME MORE ADRENALINE THAN I WILL EVER NEED FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE
(via ziggyp0p)
— Richard Siken
(Source: traditionallyforever, via thewoodbetweentheworlds)
the sky bled down & we
were running, smiling wide
with our arms raised. Not afraid
of anything ever. The way
days pass & we end up
under covers, socks pulled
to our knees. The way I bruise
without touching anything. The way
you forgot my birthday & brought me
flowers for no reason. Everything
is so convenient. We grow
teeth without trying.”
— Alexis Pope, excerpt from “A No Good Seasonal Depression”
(Source: larmoyante, via jesuisuneamesolitaire)
boys are just so cute and nice I wanna hold their hands then stab them in their dumb fucking piece of shit faces
(via millika)
I have two antique chairs in my room, both of which I hardly ever sit on because I prefer them without human bones bothering their backs. I’m in a good mood, less things are looming and I found my first slug of the summer yesterday. I haven’t left my green boots in over a week and the scar under my nose is beginning to fade. These are all nice things and I’m trying to stay green and fading and less constantly looming.
