Elizabeth

I am completely normal about Carterwood, Poetry, and Ethel Cain.

[getyoursorryasstomine]

Monica Stevens - Survivor (Destiny's Child)

[dottieapologist]

Trying to work this damn app

[dottieapologist]

Dottie X Canine Poetry

[womandidebuli]

somebody on twt/x wanted this, hope it lives up to expectations...

yes we will ignore the weird shading

[dottieapologist]

There is no rest for the wicked

The mind can be cruel sometimes-

Can’t it Peg?

My sleep schedule would be the first to tell you that.

But you’re more than dreams.

You’re all. You’re everything.

You’re my minds carefully curated imagery.

I watched you lick blood from your pretty English mouth like it was nothing.

Like it didn’t make my hands shake

And rive at the steel on my wrist

that bounds me to reality.

Like i didn’t want to carve down your back

With teeth

Nails

Lips

Blades

Just to make you real again.

I’ve tried, God I’ve tried

To be good. To be normal.

Easy, and still.

But you waltzed in

All patriotic for your own being,

And every alarm bell rang

I was made to obey

You were meant to cleverly

Dismantle and ruin

But not this time

Oh Peg,

You don’t quite understand.

This isn’t about wanting

This is need

The kind that you bury with bodies

The kind that you hide in the dark from

So it doesn’t eat you.

It’s an ache.

Not the sweet kind you feel

When holding a puppy

No this is the kind you smother with a pillow

Until it stops twitching.

Tell me, do you think I don’t

Dream

Of you with your spine of steel arched

Like a question mark?

Think I don’t want to answer

With tongue and teeth?

I’ve watched you take down men

Pile them to the floor

And fix your lipstick all in the same breath.

I knew you were the one.

You always will be, and darling-

The pedestal will always be yours Peg.

But this isn’t seduction, no

This is a hunt.

And I won’t be outpaced.

I won’t be out-fought.

Because you’ve already let me in,

You know that- don’t you?

You wear your righteousness and honour

With glamour, like armour.

But I’ve know what you’re really made of.

Your nakedness, vulnerability, rage

And the soft underbelly of where

Your guilt curls up on a night.

I want to drag it out of you

With my bare hands.

I want to taste your pretty little lies

And spit them back into your mouth.

I want you on your knees,

Speaking my name over and over

like an anthem you were never meant to say.

I want all of you.

I want your blood under my nails

I want you with bruises shaped like my name

I want you with my fingers curling deep inside your guilt

I want you wrecked and holy.

I want you to keep

Making me feel like a person.

Making me feel like a bomb

That’s about to go off.

And god

Between the late hours of your night

I’m going to go off Peg.

And the last thing you’ll hear me whisper is

‘Thank me’

[dottieapologist]

Will post Carterwood poems hereeeeee, most of them will mainly be Dottie’s POV. Pre warning- some may contain dark, graphic detail :P