A Dead Poet

Main: theyexist

[eugenehl]

“She is rotting quietly under her skirts with a melancholy smile, like the odour of violets given off by a decomposing body.”

— – La Nausée, Jean-Paul Sartre.

[hannahwritesshit]

i am still picking your skin out of my teeth

my neck is still covered in those bruises

some nights you are still in my bed

as i pluck your hair from my pillows

i think your scent sunk in too deep

my sweat reminds me of your car

[hannahwritesshit]

it’s still your fingers in my mouth

my fingers in your mouth

it’s still your

brown eyes your

tan skin your

hip bones

how they

poked into me

when i was on top

it’s your

slim fingers

how they

could touch me

like it was the first time

i had been touched

like you were

sewing together

my pores

leaving me

more whole than

i will ever be again

it’s still those

brown eyes

your lashes

how you

bit your lip when you looked at me

i could feel your eyes on me like they were hands

[theyexist]

pull me apart like the threads in your sweater finger my heartstrings with those shaking hands                                                 sink into my chest                                                                                         three knuckles deep                                                                                       until I am undone                                                                                           completely

[theyexist]

pick my name from your lips like cherries from their trees chew me up until i am dripping bittersweet onto your tongue and in the morning when my thighs are tired kiss them gently promise me i am the only lover who has stained you red and left you wanting

8.26.17

[theyexist]

[hannahwritesshit]

hi i started this blog when i was 15 and i’m a much better writer now so i guess i’ll post stuff

[theyexist]

7.13.17

[hannahwritesshit]

Some days I am the rain Others I'm a fog Some days I am heat lightning and Others I'm invisible thunder

Some days I'm blue grey and Others I'm deep purple Some days I'm a painting and Others I'm a sketch

Some days I am warm tea and Others I am bitter coffee Some days I am soft strums and Others I am loud screams

Some days I am an ever-persitant melencholy Some days I'm just sad Some days I am a slow and sticky dischord Some days I'm just lazy Some days I am a crippling sense of foreboding Some days I'm just anxious Some days I am a fitful and erratic disarray Some days I'm just jittery

[vicforprez]

[hannahwritesshit]

I can’t believe I’m just realizing the way your voice reminds me of the rain and how your eyes are my favorite shade of green and how your smiling teeth rip through me like a knife. Words pour from your lips like honey and if we were laying underneath the stars I don’t think I would even glance in the sky’s direction because I’ve wasted too much time looking to the stars for comfort and belonging when they were staring me in the face this whole time. 

[hannahwritesshit]

i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you

[loveserum-deactivated20191021]

feelings on colors

[hannahwritesshit]

Have you ever felt like the silence after a scream?

I have.

[hannahwritesshit]

I’ve loved a green corolla. 

I’ve loved the soft glow of a computer at 3am.

I’ve loved the day old scent of a bonfire.

I’ve loved a pack of marlboro reds.

I’ve loved a can of grape soda.

[80steenmovies]

Sixteen Candles, 1984 (dir. John Hughes)

[hannahwritesshit]

The last time I was on this goddamn futon the air was warm with the heat of our bodies. And now laying here I feel a chill across my skin. Now the only thing I can count on for heat is this fucking blanket. The last time I spent the night here it was because you asked me to, because you anticipated the excitement I could bring. Now I practically pleaded for somewhere to stay because I just couldn't take the two of them anymore. The last time we were alone together you kissed my nose and pulled me closer. This time we just got high. The last time we slept together it was in the same bed. But you're in it alone now, and here I am on your fucking couch. The last time we were here at 3am you couldn't get enough of me Now you're just too nice to admit you don't want me around. The last time we slept together we were drunk. This time we're both sober and I'm sure as hell starting to wish we weren't.

12.5.15 (This time)