In my 20s and fumbling for keys

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

The moment I stop creating

is the moment I stop living

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

I forgot to tell you

that I fell in love

with the demons

inside you.

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

I admit, I do admire the stars in the evening

but not as much as the constellation on your face that is forming

as you spill your drink at 7 in the morning

and I would always be left wondering

“How many times have you worn those jeans?”

Then you would tuck your hair behind your ears and grin

I admit, your voice is not close to soothing

but I dreamed as you sang the songs 

that got stuck in my head like records breaking

again and again, insanely playing

and I would always be left wondering

“How did you get pass my walls without breaking in?”

Then you would tuck your hair behind your ears and grin. 

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

"I want to build a rocket." He said

Made out of cardboard and some thread

So he built a rocket, he did.

He built a rocket, he did.

He asked the moon how she makes waves

and why does she always change her face

He needed an answer, he did.

He needed an answer, he did.

He laid down and sang to the stars

"Monoceros, should I go far?"

The stars were quiet, indeed.

The stars stayed quiet, indeed.

He started a fire with hay and leaves

Lit up his rocket, oh, how naive!

The rocket blazed, indeed.

His rocket blazed, indeed.

He sat by the fire and said

"I will build a rocket again." 🚀

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

‪“Greatness is merely an illusion in our minds, a made-up destination that we obligate ourselves to pursue, our own psychological Atlantis.” ‬

The subtle art of not giving a fuck

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

‪There's a barrier ‬

‪safely hidden between us‬

‪seen yet unspoken.‬

-A

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

I am a murderer

my senses told me I am.

I emptied the room and pulled her in.

I watched as her blood trickled toward my feet

A crimson of everything she was slipped through the history.

I am a murderer

my senses told me I am.

I braced my back on the cold walls.

My disordered breathing echoed

as I gazed into her eyes intently.

I watched her unwavering stare.

I am a murderer

my senses told me I am.

The tireless screams vanished like shadows in a darkened room.

I remembered when she said that

her disposition used to be indispensable

but her existence was worthless.

I am a murderer

my senses told me I am.

I had to put her out of her misery.

She deftly scurried herself back to this house.

She knew what was coming.

We were expecting this to happen.

I am a murderer

my senses told me I am

...but she didn't.

She said someone had to stop her.

She needed an ungrudging death.

so my senses told me to end her life right then there.

I am her murderer.

my senses told me

my senses told me

my senses told me

again and again

my senses told me

I am.

[timbllr]

via @WeHeartIt

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

The rustling sound of leaves and the space between my feet.

I do not know where I am but I feel like I belong here. 

-A

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

It’s a demon that wants to crawl its way out of your skin. 

It wants to ooze out of your pores. 

It doesn’t whisper anything to you;

this son of a bitch is inside your head. 

It swims with your thoughts. It calls waves of memories, unwanted ones.

A little fucker scratching from within.

It feels good but you know it will eventually bleed. 

You desperately want it no more but it doesn’t give you any control.

No, it is its own creature. It knows when to go and when to stay.

It wants to crawl out but it stays.

[abduction]

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

My hearts has its own secrets.

Secrets that I do not know.

Secrets that my mind can't decipher.

Secrets that my mouth can't utter.

I can only feel these secrets, and yet no, I still do not know.

[hirxeth]

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

"I love you"

You spat it out like a venom in your mouth.

I wasn't waiting, no, I wasn't

Although I did hope you would also say it.

But no; you didn't.

-A

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

Mr. Willow Tree

I met you while I was sinking deep in the cold breeze of January.

It was a fine day. It was nothing but ordinary, especially you, Mr. Willow tree.

You started to give shade and I gave in to the comforting darkness of your leaves.

The sun dived in to your branches and I found myself lost and deceived.

Mr. Willow tree, I was dead last February.

I was breathing heavily on the roots of your reality.

I picked up my pen again and again

And yet, again, nothing happened.

Mr. Willow tree, nobody told me you were not, even the slightest, sick.

A season was ending while I put back your leaves and sticks.

It took 90 days of cold winter nights.

It took one slumber of fear before I opened my eyes.

June and the smell of berries and memories.

I decided to tie a swing and made a promise.

I grasped my hands around the entwined ropes

I didn't budge, I was my own gyroscope.

You were not satisfied

No you were not

You let me peek behind the trees

and there it was, a little rock.

I wore July and August like my favorite raincoat.

You thought it was funny "The rain will stop" I quote.

It did, the down pour turned into drizzle hitting the wind shield.

I watched each droplet form a hemisphere, to it, I went with.

In September, you wrapped me around your finger.

Dear Mr. Williow tree, you were there to watch me suffer.

Longs nights awaited, days passed ahead.

Was it self inflicted or did you just let me witness death?

I was, and still am, Mr. Willow tree

amazed by how you sucked every part of me.

From then on I found everything but glee.

It is a fine day; it is nothing but ordinary, especially you, Mr. Willow tree.

-A.

[deepfriedthoughtswithgravy]

I stopped believing in Him. I haven't told anyone, not a single soul. I did, undeniably, stop believing. While every thing was happening that night, I was sitting somewhere on the streets, praying, praying for the end. It was too much to handle, I prayed for the end. I wanted her to live but I knew, I knew the truth. I talked to Him. I asked Him to end her suffering. I prayed to Him, asking him to take her. Was I praying to God? Was I praying to Death? Was that a prayer? Was it a cry for help? Was it desperation crawling out my mouth as it sank its teeth through my bones which caused pain, ineffable pain. Was I praying to God? The thoughts and every whisper of each monster strolling in my mind started to shake every abandoned corner of my childhood and longings. Was that a prayer? I prayed to Him, to stop the misery and just take her... or did I ask for her death? Did I ask Death? What did I do? I stopped believing in Him. I haven't told every thing But I did, surely, stop believing.