Run With The Young And Heartless

Attempts at eloquent expression of complex and annoying feelings.

[bnmxfld]

F. Scott Fitzgerald / The Ice Palace

[hvmanicorporis]

I was sitting with my back against a rock on a little hill watching traffic when my dog came out of the woods. He brought me cherry vanilla ice cream in a waffle bowl and placed it in my lap.

I patted his head and asked him, “What do you really think of me?”.

He looked me in eye and said, “You’re a selfish bitch that can’t realize anyone else’s emotions. Your morals are pretty self convenient. You can’t keep a relationship, nor will you probably ever find anyone who satisfies you. You should prepare to be alone. Your friends probably judge you in secret and you’ll never know. You eat too much and the minute you step out of line your parents will most likely disown you”.

I still had my spoon in my mouth and I really couldn’t think of anything to say.

My dog chuckled then climbed onto my lap and rolled into a ball.

“ You’re toxic, he said. But I’ll always love you”

[fakesurprise]

“If I loved you, I would run across oceans to fetch you food, sing songs that would make the gods blush, tattoo your name onto my skin and bones, laugh at sunset that could never be as beautiful as you are.”

“Yes. If.”

And we smiled, perhaps sadly.

[hvmanicorporis]

Love is a neuro-chemical con job

And I’ve been swindled out of everything except half a dollar bill

[hvmanicorporis]

My fairy godmother is a whoremonger. She spoils me in the most convoluted sense of indulgence. She likes to tease me, my cheeky fairy godmother. She’ll throw splendors my way knowing my eyes will fall upon the sweetest and most forbidden apple.

But she’s a devil, she knows the one I like the most will spoil at my touch. But she’ll sit there and watch like a Cheshire Cat. Smiling, waiting for it to start. Waiting for me to weep over the sugar turning to salt in my palms so she can comfort me with false visions and ideas.

But I’ve seen her now, and it boils me. Like poison waffles in Canadian maple syrup, bottled by dark lumberjacks. She’ll present me what she knows will so easily kill me. 

So I’ll leave her, and think of 10 ways to die peacefully.

And when I’m looking over the edge she’ll chuckle, and ask “Are you tired of kissing the ones you don’t really like?”. I’ll ignore her and she’ll taunt me as I try to resist. But she’s a pestilence that fairy. So I’ll intoxicate myself and block out her voice in the solitude. When the sugar turns to arsenic I’ll go back to where I came from. Regretting all my thoughts.

But then knock knock, fairy godmother has been listening. She holds my hand, gives me a shiny honey crisp, and says “ I brought you a better one”. 

Apprehension leaves my mind as quickly as New York rats run after a pizza crust on the filthy sidewalks. 

Then it’s back to sweet, poison apples. Bitches love apples.

[hvmanicorporis]

My dog sleeps with his eyes open.

My door is closed so no one can hear as I crunch on sweet plantain chips like a rabid boar and my dog snores like one. I am sitting here at my laptop, at my desk, at my new house, at 1:35 in the morning. I threw my bra to the other side of the room, so now my boobs hang like two papayas ripe on a tree. Not that I would use “ripe” to describe these sagging slut sacks.

Besides my dog, no one else knows that I am failing college. My parents expect me to go to medical school. But the only place I’m going to for sure is the room of the Haitian boy on the 4th floor, after midnight. Since, well, you know what they say about those Haitian boys.  

My calculus homework has been doing me since 10pm and he’s really not stopping. He’s violent, I kind of like it. He really might kill me though. I’m being dramatic. I can stop him anytime, but I like the attention.

It’s 1:36 now. I was hoping it was already 2:00 so I could say I did a good night’s work and go to bed. Calculus is still here.

I went on Youtube and I don’t know what happened but it’s now 1:59am and I can give you a full theory on how Game of Thrones is probably gonna end. And exactly what Dany did to please the Khal. Calculus is also still here. 

I looked at my phone and there has not been one message since 10:00pm. At least not from those I want. It’s never from the ones I want. I used to have one that I liked better than all the others. I used to pretend I it’s girlfriend, even though I knew I wouldn’t be. But I liked to pretend.

 I don’t have that one anymore. 

I’m sad now. So I’m using my browser in incognito to find something, you know, to what. 

I couldn’t help but listen to how quiet my room is. I finished my chips a long time ago.

 I looked over and my dog’s eyes are wide open. He’s laying there, staring right at me. He’s judging me. He can hear everything I’ve been thinking since 10:00pm. He’s not even moving, just staring, just judging. 

He’s right, I shouldn’t watch dirty movies on a Sunday morning. It’s 2:03am. We’re going to bed now.  

[kristensnotebook]

I want to know you whether you’re afraid of sharks or spiders death or love. I want to know if it’s grammatical errors that drive you crazy or the people correcting them, if you’re more comfortable shaking sand out of your hair or snow, if you prefer coffee or tea, bars or board game nights. I want to know which of your friends you’ve cried in front of, if you’ve ever laughed chocolate milk out of your nose, or kissed someone you didn’t love. I want to know you, the you beneath the layer of small talk always kept shined and smudgeless.  I’m just hoping one day you’ll invite me in.

Kristen Costello (via kristensnotebook)

[hvmanicorporis]

My fairy godmother is a whoremonger. She spoils me in the most convoluted sense of indulgence. She likes to tease me, my cheeky fairy godmother. She’ll throw splendors my way knowing my eyes will fall upon the sweetest and most forbidden apple.

But she’s a devil, she knows the one I like the most will spoil at my touch. But she’ll sit there and watch like a Cheshire Cat. Smiling, waiting for it to start. Waiting for me to weep over the sugar turning to salt in my palms so she can comfort me with false visions and ideas.

But I’ve seen her now, and it boils me. Like poison waffles in Canadian maple syrup, bottled by dark lumberjacks. She’ll present me what she knows will so easily kill me. 

So I’ll leave her, and think of 10 ways to die peacefully.

And when I’m looking over the edge she’ll chuckle, and ask “Are you tired of kissing the ones you don’t really like?”. I’ll ignore her and she’ll taunt me as I try to resist. But she’s a pestilence that fairy. So I’ll intoxicate myself and block out her voice in the solitude. When the sugar turns to arsenic I’ll go back to where I came from. Regretting all my thoughts.

But then knock knock, fairy godmother has been listening. She holds my hand, gives me a shiny honey crisp, and says “ I brought you a better one”. 

Apprehension leaves my mind as quickly as New York rats run after a pizza crust on the filthy sidewalks. 

Then it’s back to sweet, poison apples. Bitches love apples.

[hvmanicorporis]

Salt

He's a realist but my naivete still bounces around with bunnies in the poppy fields. I liked him for his face. All the dark valleys, dips, and bends. The warm amusement in the split of his smile. He looked like he knew something of value, a secret I wanted in on. 

Green as I was, I could tell he was no stranger to the cherry tree when he spoke. His words came out like wet tennis balls. The actual words passed you by but your eyes lingered on the wet circles left after every bounce. Even then, I still took his placebo like a self diagnosed moonstruck loon.

 He was a pirate and I itched for the slightest adventure. I'd drink sea water out of a pearl chalice, slay Calypso, and every wave my seaman sent through my body would rock in tune with the sea's rhythm. 

 For him, I danced around deities and prison wardens. Little did I realize my dreams rode higher horses than he was able to mount. Attitudes turned stale, I wanted from the cherry tree. Regret or realization, which ever came first, sent me back to sailing. I looked and my bunnies were few and stagnant. The poppies turned to white lilies of the valley.

I sent the ship off, but like the attached dog I am I swam out to sea the second the horn blew. Wether it was the taste of sea salt or the vulgar scurvy I missed I couldn't decide.

 Vega sparkled like a dancer in the night and I sent word to my lover of my dearest intimate wishes. My wishes dissipated. I found that tears could fall on the inside of my eyes. And the last bunny died.

[hvmanicorporis]

Art Boy

Perfect feminine masculinity Body electric Eyes like gas giants in foreign galaxies Curls like black sea billows roll Infant’s laughter at lude humor Skin like the purest pearl Shoulders broad as the cedars Voice smooth as buttermilk Mind like the inner workings of a clock Passion like a volcano Anger like a samurai at war Tears as rare as visible meteor showers and deep as the Mariana Trench Masterpiece made by a divine painter Your hand hits paper and worlds translate to words Your mouth opens and your voice soothes the hearts of the weary They’ll never tell you they want you Admired from afar Lonely lover soul

[lovelustquotes]

I don’t want to be loved like a river, slow and steady. Love me like the sea, with vigor and unfathomable depth.

Natalie Jensen (via lovelustquotes)

[myravenousmindandme]

[theliteraryjournals]

I don’t think we did go blind, I think we are blind, Blind but seeing, Blind people who can see, but do not see.

José Saramago, Blindness (via wordsnquotes)

[wordswritteninsilence]

Eventually we just learn to live with our loneliness; giving ourselves the company we once craved from another.

Navin E. (via wordswritteninsilence)

[hvmanicorporis]

Viscera Agnate

She's got a osseous fetish. A kink for the sanguine fluid, the twine of veins, the stratification of muscle, the osseous contours . A taste for the DNA codons and nucleic acids. A craving for the biotin, melanin, carotene, collagen, actin, and myosin. She lays my chassis down on the soft slab and straddles my inguinal. She's non compos mentis, as her phalanges trace superiorly to my abdominal like a scalpel. She leans down and inhales the pheromones of my endocrine system. Her touch is an autonomic response causing fervor and arrhythmia. Positive feedback. She palpates my sternum with the carapace of her bewitching orbicularis oris. She wants me to invade her. She wants me to hold her down with the force of my quadriceps. She wants to feel the pressure my extensor digitorum leave on the soft dermal tissue surrounding her femurs. She wants me to take her like a parasitic virus. Use and destroy. Her frontal lobe loses control as she rides the waves of my adenosine. She's in love with the my mitochondria.Powerhouse of the cell. When our Kreb's cycle and potassium pump relax, she tells me that we're agnate. One in the same. She tells me about how she wants to evolve into my morphology. Cardiac muscle, rhythmically in tune.

[diabhal-sceal]

Day sorta creeps away skulking like a kicked raccoon Night replacing her thinking no one will notice if he takes a bite

but I see him that bastard

[purplemonkeysexgod69]

the taking (extended version, pun intended)

her shadow danced with the single source of light in the room — the flame from the candle on the nightstand

she had spiked his drink

he woke up naked crucified to the bed with silk ropes

she slowly took off her panties wet with anticipation making sure he was watching

she balled them up and shoved it in his mouth before gagging him with her stockings

there would be no making of love tonight

only the taking

the blood rush was instantaneous his attention – focused

she stood at the foot of the bed – spread eagle her juices dripping down her thighs dripping off her spiked heels and onto the floor

her hands grazed her breasts as they traveled up and behind her neck to undo her hair

she slipped the tie onto her wrist as she shook her head and let her hair wash down her shoulders and breasts – her hard nipples peering through the curtain

she wet her lips with her tongue as she released a whispered moan from her throat

her hand traced a line from her hip to her moist ache coating her palm with her wetness

his throbbing flesh reached out like a sword in a stone she grabbed his hilt her juices mixing with those dripping from his tip

she could feel his heartbeat in her hand the warm pulsating rhythm from his veins

the rest of her stalked next to him on the bed with panther-like prowess she brought her mouth to his ear and nibbled on his lobe until she could feel the shivers run up his spine

she then spoke the only four words she would utter to him this night:

“I will destroy you.”