Mmm... Tastes like poison

Niki//23//Fem An insecure bundle of anxiety and depression wrapped in human skin and decorated with glow in the dark nail polish.I may not have met your pets, but I already love them. Supposedly I'm a writer.

[tristamateer]

I still remember you as a little girl who overwaters plants because she doesn’t know when to stop giving.

Trista Mateer (24 of 30)

[dustasdustasdust]

do no ask me the exact sequencing

of events, or exactly how

it all happened, or even 

the sound of his name, because

his name is not safe

in my mouth anymore, and i

cannot distinguish 

the days from the weeks. 

i cannot tell you the whole truth or 

what was really real, 

but i can tell you the shape of his shadow

and the precise shade of 

dusk he wore. 

i can tell you the way that he haunts

even when he is no longer here,

i can tell you which floorboards to avoid

to prolong going undetected. 

i can tell you how he morphs bodies

and minds

into shapeless

raw

bloody things. 

i can tell you about hiding the knives

in fear that some night he will

slip in through the walls and cut out

my tongue to 

finish what he started. 

i can tell you how hard he bit down on

my tongue and exactly how it felt

to have the tissue sever so that

my lips and my story

can never connect. 

i can tell you about the nightmares filled

with nothing but the sound

of his laughter and the cracks

inside of his eyes.

i can tell you about how dizzy it feels to live

inside of here, 

and what it is like to carry pliers around with you

everywhere, just clinging onto some hope that 

somehow

someday

someway, 

i will be able to ply my throat apart

and rip out something

close to what it looked like

and something close

to what was real. 

[theplaceiwritemythoughtsandstuff]

Tonight was the first night I had to fight the urge not to go running back to him. To try not to go back to my safe place. As I scrolled through pictures from last summer, I tried over and over again to take myself back. Take myself back to the moment I took the picture. How it felt to be inches away from him, laughing as he did something dumb. I was so happy. So tonight as I struggled to keep myself together, I wanted nothing more than to go running back to him. To text him that I need him. To call him and cry. Who knows if he’d even pick up, but I so wanted him to. I thought I needed him too. I don’t. So I put down my phone, climbed into bed, and rode out the waves of sadness alone because I don’t need him. I shouldn’t even want him.

Excerpt from a book I’ll never write // #134 // but wanting him has always been easiest (via theplaceiwritemythoughtsandstuff)

[meanwhilepoetry]

Be careful, my darlings. There are people out there that taste like fireworks and bliss, but leave ashes and warnings in the aftertaste of their kiss.

Nikita Gill (via meanwhilepoetry)

[jwfeelings]

We should leave this place.“ "Where would we go. We don’t even have money in our pockets.” “We don’t need money. We got each other. A day away from this place will feel like a year of living.

from a book I might write by @jwfeelings (via jwfeelings)

[lifeinpoetry]

I can’t do it. I’ve been so good, but I just can’t go on. He comes into the bathroom when I’m flossing my teeth. I long to be in an elevator with you, stuck between floors. Tell me something filthy. I hate love, don’t you?

Margaret Atwood, from “Wilderness Tips,” Wilderness Tips  (via 5000letters)

[fleurishes]

The only thing touching me right now are my black jeans, a blanket, this bra. Even my friends  don’t want to go out: J is in bed, phone glowing hot in his hands; Alisha’s in Florida with a sad song and a linen napkin in her lap. Maybe this cigarette is my Valentine, all mint-smoke smell in my hair;  or the card my grandmother picked out carefully three days ago for me. I have to cram myself into this body every day and it’s getting crowded. I wander lonely through Target, buy small things like nail polish, a scarf, breath mints. People are always so surprised that my poems contain so much  sadness, that I can crawl right into the belly of it and sleep there. I can’t talk to you like this. No one is answering their phones and the woman who tells me that the person I am trying to reach is not available is my best friend and I hope she’s happy. I hope someone loves her. I hope she loves herself.

Kristina Haynes, “Valentine’s Day Blues” (via fleurishes)

[hypoterrmia]

[muddysocks]

im a total mess.... but.... a glittery, light pink, soft mess

[nikis-words]

You make me promises Use words like Always And Forever And I want to laugh Want to press my lips to your forehead Call you my silly fool Give it time, love Give it time Nobody stays Certainly not forever and I don't expect you to be any better You think now you can handle this My mess of a brain You think my anxieties sweet My idiosyncrasies charming But With time they'll wear on you You'll see me for what I am A monster A rabid dog ready to bite And then Just like everyone else You'll excuse yourself Blame me for hiding it And leave And I’ll Be all alone

Roberts, N. “Don’t Make Me Promises”

[xphaiea-deactivated20160412]

I was pretending that I did not speak their language; on the moon we spoke a soft, liquid tongue, and sang in the starlight, looking down on the dead dried world

We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Shirley Jackson  (via wildfairy)

[haleyincarnate]

Quote by writingwillows.

[latenightcornerstore]

sext: you moan my name in your sleep and I unravel into nothing but a gasp in the dark.

[nikis-words]

Your freckles are like stars I want to connect the dots with my finger tip Map them out in to constellations Make stories and tales out of your chicken pox scars That I can whisper to you when we lay together

Roberts, N. “You’re a Galaxy, Love”

[nikis-words]

It’s strange to think A small white pill Taken once Every morning Is all that’s keeping me from Slipping Spiraling Turning into a monster that craves her own blood Is what makes it so I can feel Happy Hopeful Anything that isn’t a deep seeded sense of soul crushing despair

Roberts, N. “Take One Every Morning”

[nikis-words]

Here's the secret Sobering up is a pain That I wish I could pass over Because You see I Write better drunk and I Fuck better drunk Two shots Of something that burns And There's a sway to my hips And A smile on my Lips That I can't find when My mind is Clear I need A hazy perspective And A delightfully dizzy So I forget How much I Hate My life

Roberts, N. “Let’s Get a Drink”

[latenightcornerstore]

So love didn’t taste like you wanted. So love was all liquor and sweat, all badly timed apologies, all bruises on the inside. So love was uglier than the movies, hungrier than the stories. So love took you down to the corner store, on the edge of town, and left you in the lot for the wolves. So love was rough on you. It was rough on me, too. I’ve got a box full of teeth that are only half mine. I’ve got an empty violin case for a rib cage. Love left me out in the wilderness, like food for the birds, and I crawled my way home with their beaks in my blood, and I made it. So come here. Let me love those bruises out of you. You can kiss my teeth back into their sockets. We’ll love like children with a box of bandages– we won’t ask where it hurts. We’ll just kiss everywhere. I can’t love the battle scars all the way better, but I can love you the best way I know how to. I can love you with all that I have. (I never knew love was so soft until I knew the soft loving of you. I’d never loved with anything softer than my hands.)

ROBIN’S EGG HEART(BREAK), by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)