[linxspiration]

[tulipnight]

[boy-so-pale]

[primarity]

[celbel96]

[ruta-mia-blog]

[funnyjoke]

[sunflowerbutch]

god released me into the wild and now he’s hunting me for sport

[abduction]

[neurodick]

[oktober-air]

https://corespirit.com/practitioners/14799

Laura Bazso

[oktober-air]

The shortest letter about you

  Do you ever have that millisecond when you wake up and your memory is cleared?  You don’t know where you are, what happened last night, or what’s going on in your life.  I do.  But for some reason in that millisecond, and somehow still, I still expect to reach over and feel your body. Say good morning. Feel your arms, your back, your shoulder… anything would be nice.  Then it comes back.  Everything.  

  I still hope that I’ll reach over and feel your arm while you’re facing the other way on your side, rolled over.  There were times when I did that and you’d roll over, put one arm under my back and your other arm around my head and swing me over your body and have me feel like my entire body was yours.  You’d get comfortable and let out a breath.  At the time I hated that feeling of it brushing against my cheeks, but right now, in this moment, I couldn’t think of anything I want more.  

  There were these times when you’d be on your side and your back facing me and I’d run my fingers down your back.  Slowly, without my eyes ever leaving the invisible lines I’d leave.  I don’t think you ever knew how much love went into that.  I still, to this day, have no idea why you fascinated me.

  But all that’s gone now.  I’m better, but it hurts.  None of all of that matters anymore.  When in less than a month, you’re already rolling around in someone else’s sheets, when yesterday was the first time I had a meal, and last night I slept for more than two hours straight.   

  I told myself that I need to feel.  Let myself feel every ounce of how this tears me apart, and still I try to find ways to get you off my mind.  Whether its him, a drink, anything.  I’ll go to the edge in order to get this image of you and her off my mind.  And all I’ve learned is having a distraction doesn’t help you move on, and it doesn’t help you let go. 

 I’ve been here before, more times than I’d like to admit. 

I am living proof of self-destruction. 

I’ll do whatever I can not to feel.  And every day, all of a sudden its 3am, the bottles empty, I’ve watched the first 20 minutes of every movie I own, and I’m wide awake, needing to be up in 3 hours. 

Left with nothing but loneliness and troubling thoughts id never share.

At times I will be such in a daze where I don’t even realize that the TV shut off, or the music stopped.  I’m just sitting here, in complete silence.  My surroundings might be silent but this constant noise in my head is uncontrollable.  I feel like someone could scream and I wouldn’t be able to hear it.  If anyone were to ask me what I was just zoned out to, I wouldn’t even have a response.  All my thoughts are too loud to even remember.  It’s just a bunch of noise.  Loud, time consuming, breath taking thoughts.  And yet I can’t remember one of them.  

  I can’t do anything that doesn’t make some sort of memory of you come to mind ever so graciously.  Even old pictures on the walls, whether you’re in them or not, there’s a part of you in it. So what am I supposed to do?  Tear down every picture?  Change the scenery? No matter what I do, I can’t change the situation.  I can’t change the fact that the future looks a little blurry now… I barely knew what my future held for me before, and now it’s like the future doesn’t even have a path visible for me see where the next stone in front of me is.  Every decision I make at this point is a huge, drastic, big deal.  It’s no longer “What’s for dinner tonight?” “What movie should we watch?” decisions, all these decisions I’m left to choose from have these huge impacts on how my life is going to go from now on. 

Every part of me just wishes that you came home at 3am and made things better.  But you didn’t.  It’s been this long and you still haven’t, and you won’t.  

And accepting that is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do…

  But there’s no way that I’m going to be mistaken as a door mat.  I can’t feel guilty for your decisions.    

[poet-laureate]

“You were a flower I remember. With petals red as blood out of the newly opened wounds you called your heart. And more recently… your reason for being alive in the tundra of your home. But you were the flower who bloomed regardless. Whose teasing aroma sought suitors from world’s around. Only to be struck my the thorns you gave laid as a defense, ruins from your toiled past. And yet sometimes a rose is best plucked betwixt her spiked abdomen. Hands eagerly placed on the shallow breast–her beating sternum chanting her anthem– for years left unheard. And yet when she weeps the tender words so long left hanging on her mouth she is not afraid. Her lover weaves around the treacherous terrain once called her ribcage–now sembling more a battleground. Soil bathed in ash, still proves fruitful. She grows here still–and she always will. Once my flower spread her legs to show me petals hidden betwewn the silky threads of her thighs. And the fragrance–a nectar most divine and sweet. Seemed to me an opiate deemed right for king. Yet all reserved to me. How pleasant, to have fingertips trace the outline of every majestic curvature within your sordid busty frame i will never stop drinking you in, if you must know. And i will live my life perpetually within the black and white greyscale that is your crotch–fitting so pleasantly into mine. How sadistic of you to keep your eyes closed, let me dive in to the majesty that Is your dripping desire. I will not hesitate to have you. Make you mine with the way my tongue glides so effortlessly down your skin. Why it must be fate that your mouth so eagerly calls my name in this ecstacy. In this deep breathed escapade, bodies so masterfully entangled.”

— Oh flower of mine. .. (via notafuckingpoet)

[poet-laureate]

“Someone in this world adores you, I can tell you that most definitely. No matter your toil. Because the sound of your name makes them stir in their sleep. Makes them sweat and heave, turning riptides into their sheets. Just last night they dreamt you were on the edge of a cold bridge, Gripping the rails so tight your knuckles turned red–then white, Breathing a misty breath–a soothing relief With each passing roll of your chest. And they nearly jumped out of their own skin, Leaping out of such splendid slumber just to catch you. Smashing their head into bed posts—busting lips, Bathing mouths in blood. And lamented the fact their after–in the mirror, tending to superficial wounds. For not being able to hold you—wherever that may be. To catch your fall such a great wish they don’t even mind the stitches, There’s someone out there who adores you. Because there have been nights–many now–spent with pen and pad, Trying to scratch out a metaphor about the way they look at you One that could adequately capture some depth– You are as chilling as the wind to their spine. And you creep up their backs every time. Certainty found only in sunrises and supernovas. There’s someone out there that adores you my dear. Who sings love songs with you in mind, With that dorky grin you once told was infectious, For once you have a smile all for yourself. I hope you take it.”

— (via poet-laureate)

[poet-laureate]

“each unique in its own right the build up uncertainty did she just lick her lips? she’s staring right through me. our foreheads are touching this has to be it. i mean i can’t pull her any closer. she breaks the silence with a question— “do you miss her?” her cheeks are against mine i know she can feel the redness stirring she scrunches up her face concern? i can’t even say anything because i do but only in theory the way you spend all day craving that noxious drag off a cheap cigarette bummed off your best friends dad only to realize you can’t even taste the blood bubbling on the inside of your mouth. because you’ve bitten it off in an anxiety ridden attack. i miss her but i know if i go back it’ll never be the love i dream of i go for the kiss. oddly unfamiliar. before leaning back. “do you miss him?””

— first kiss (via poetryislame)

[poet-laureate]

“My heart used to be filled to the brim with toxic cynicism and id regurgitate my sarcasm to ward away any beauty that may present itself pushing it so I don’t have to face the ugliness inside myself but i guess a hundred cups of coffee melt away my shell and I was left, naked and alone on countless Saturday evenings until I met you. And now starry nights don’t seem so lonely since I have you to look forward to. Your lips dim the anxiety burning in my chest to a dull throbbing and when I put my hand to my chest it always chants your name Now I don’t feel so cheesy saying we were made for each other and at the beginning of time when the universe exploded into existence the atoms that make up our being, were side by side, holding hands. and now a hundred million years later they are again.”

— (via poetryislame)

[gayerluke]

security question: what was the last name of your first grade teacher?

my first grade teacher hacking my bank account: i’m in

[wolfvalkyrie-blog]

why is this so fucking funny