"now, we are just memories."

damien, 13, he/it.

[wujiunantai]

I will always laugh at the ieatpastaforbreakfast Masky and whatever voice they give him because it’s just so GOOFY-

[anonymous-fandom-writer]

Otis Driftwood and Foxy Coltrane listen to ICP and you can't change my mind!

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

i love how pissed off spaulding looks when otis is crouched on the floor playing with a fucking face

[pvnkr0ckr4tk1ng]

"will you rot with me?"

[egar-allen-hoe]

Perversion

Death is a stunner.

Beautiful woman in a tight white dress.

She is the object of every lustful longing I have never felt for life.

Every fibre of my being aches to feel her warm hands around my throat.

That she might pour ice cold release into each vein and vessel.

Sealed in a velvet kiss.

I was in love with the way you made me feel.

But never you, and for that I am sorry.

To have loved you not as a lover but as a bottle,

In your lips found bourbon and bitters,

But for a long time now I've been hung over.

And you have been dregs, running dry.

want so desperately to be euthanised. To be punished for my paraphilic lust for death.

I have been spiteful and careless.

And yet still I find it impossible to feel true remorse.

I hate you all.

[estel-noreflecti0n]

Alive

Licking affection out of knives I

learned to be where I was not,

in comprehending my desires I

found a quiet madness that longs 

for something that doesn't quite have a name,

my hands are softer now,

they don't remember what they touched

in their journey to be what they were not.

Weeds grow in the gallow that I used to sleep,

green and vibrant in their resentment,

I never had the inclination to care for them,

but yet I inherited the skill,

I'm selfish because I'm good at it,

I'm hateful because I'm good at it,

I know why I did the things I did and I

am unrepentant, muddy boots hide the crimes

of times in which I almost understood why

my need to be hurt back was the kinder part of me.

I was alive, less than I am now,

but I tried, and the price was high and

when it was finally time to let 

my eagerness to be in pain die, 

I wondered if I was saying goodbye to what

was the best part of me. 

I could be wrong, I knew I could be wrong,

and yet, I stopped licking those knives,

still selfish, still hateful,

but somehow, more alive