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[silentvorta]

I've been asked very often about my sexuality in past. Gay and Fictosexual? Perhaps yes, but tbh I call myself Blue-Sexual, because General Blue is the only one I ever loved and will love more than anything for eternity! Our relationship is real for many years, he's the one I can call "my husband" or "my home" and I'm happy my friends and fam accept it and ship us aswell! 💚💙

[laladbzland]

[revolutionforreal22]

Unworthy

Some people just leave and treat you as if you never even existed. Idk it hurts, no matter how much I want to deny it. I hate thinking about it, yet it still occurs to me that maybe somethings wrong with me. That I'm not loveable enough that I'm not worthy of love

[revolutionforreal22]

No More Using Me

I am more than a game to use,

I am more than a puppet,

I am more than your insults,

I am more than your belittling,

I am more than your boyfriend’s jealousy,

I am deserving of better,

I am worthy of true friendship,

I am worthy of love.

[revolutionforreal22]

Broken Glass by Christian Gould

I broke it, The shards a trillion little blades cutting up my fingers. Each one seeps through the gaps, Each piece showers an invisible spray of little slicers, A sprinkle of knife-edge, In every moment, Of razor pellets hitting the earth.

Razor sprinkle in the eye, Bounced off the floor, My eyes are bleeding, Stinging, watering, Profusely, swimming In tears and blood.

I cannot catch the pieces, Through the red coat, Glazing my vision black. I cannot catch the pieces, Because even with sight, I cannot see them all.

They catch my skin, And open little red rivers, Running a stream down my arms and legs. Even so, anxiety says they must be caught, And so I swipe and close them, In my fists, and a river of blood spills from The gash of my hands.

It’s all of me, spilling onto the floor, Sheets of my life spilling away, A river of me running away from my body, And what of me, of me? Will I leave the body too, will I exit?

I collapse on my knees, A sheet of razors beneath me, opening me, To a larger stream which becomes, A red pool drowning me.

[revolutionforreal22]

No More Using Me

I am more than a game to use,

I am more than a puppet,

I am more than your insults,

I am more than your belittling,

I am more than your boyfriend’s jealousy,

I am deserving of better,

I am worthy of true friendship,

I am worthy of love.

[revolutionforreal22]

When the Roses Faded by C.C Tundra

When the roses faded, they grew anew, a breath of fresh earth, sprung up out of the ashes. We are the ashes. we breathe toxic waste, dragon's breath, no. human's breath will pollute, and corrupt mother earth's core!

Our breath is that of nuclear radiation. our breath reeks of death, of our own dead, of animal dead, of broken earth. She weeps, the earth, wanted us to grow like buds, sprung up fresh with life, opportunity to await.

But we like to stuff our face, with our dead, our ashes, the ashes of our planet, it only makes the hunger grow. Our hunger, equals destruction, including ours, our self-cannibalism, will not abate until everything is mutilated, until we peel the petals from a rose

Blood-red petals, yank off stem, red fingers, our fingers, grubby, greedy, bloody and thick with filth, Let our animal dead, our dead, our dead mother earth who has given us breath! let it all crumble into shadow, let us blend into black, never go back

I see the bud upon the hill, I wish I could reach it, pluck the stem from mother's embrace, and hold it in the palm of my hand. But that is why I don't. The stem is the answer, if anyone knows, it's what gives us breath, mercy, love

Knowledge is a sort of greed too, if you're willing to eliminate, the petals that branch off, the stem from which you came. Then you are nothing. greed, hunger, broken, wilted rose petal no more, no more. you'll always be hungry.

When the roses faded, the ashes melted into a crust. residue doesn't mean: no future, it just means no future for us! And if we cannot sustain our present, (the gift of life bloomed from the unknown), then what was it all for?

When the roses faded, the ashes, not of our past, but present, suffocates us! our insides smolder, and we come apart. We bleed out, we are no more, our stem, our petals, and why? It's because: When the Rose Fades, all we need is a mirror; but often blind-sided, we give up

We cave in, we like to destroy, remember? that's right, that's right; no more roses! For when the rose fades, that's the most sad thing. Our deprivation is all that's left now, our hunger directs inwards, and we can't help but answer its call.

[no-gods-no-masters-tshirts]

[right-2-rebel-deactivated202210]

- Claude Mckay, If We Must Die