charlie

trashy queer fucker ☆☆ you can find my poetry here, in the streets, or wherever you look hard enough

[streetfaggot]

pretty boy

☆☆☆

and your hair in my mouth

eyeliner monster drink

i listen to your songs at night

dangle feet in time with ceiling fans

we could be something

if you've ever thought of me

with my hair in your mouth

and a hand on your belt

i take, take

do you ever stop when you think of me

and wonder where i've been?

do you have me?

let me and i'll line my lips with your smile

pretty boy

[streetfaggot]

You sing

Here's another song about a gender I'll never understand

I sing the words back to you with a passion raging in my skull

Though I understand more than most - my oft fortunate curse -

I'll never understand her

Never understand how to help where I hurt

Or how to fix what I started

Or how to kill my own feelings before they get me first

I can't speak without tears

Cry without Remembering

Or stop hating myself for still loving her

As one loves the night sky; from afar, though in our naivety we used to believe we could touch the stars

My skin and bones rot so far below her it's comparatively Hell

I'll pray to understand

To forget

To grieve

To live so far away from her

As the music echoes through the widowed halls of my cranium

[streetfaggot]

Nothing is right

In this shade of light

My skin doesn't fit

In the places it should

Scratches, rose thorns

Down my arms

And I know you don't see me

The way I do

[streetfaggot]

Pull me apart

Highway lights flash

I hear the cars rushing past

Like blood through my bones

Like waves overhead

Overwhelmed and understated

Waiting for the time of death

Expecting sirens screaming

Finding only darkness

[streetfaggot]

Me

i am skin and bone

but my bones are breaking

and my skin is peeling

is there anything left of me

when what's left

isn't me?

i look in the mirror

and don't see myself

the voice in my head

isn't mine either

how could there be 

anything left of me

when what was me

left long ago?

i see your mouth moving

hear your words

for the silent screaming pleas they are

but my ears are blocked

or maybe my heart

maybe my mind

if i haven't lost it yet

i look in the mirror

and i see anything but hollow

i am all hollow

hollow eyes

hollow stomach

hollow mind

you say you want me

but how could that be true

you say you need me

but how could that be true

you say you know me

but how could that be true

when i don't know me

and i never will.

[streetfaggot]

Call Me What You Want

Call me what you want.

Call me whore,

Devil,

Dead to you.

Call me,

Just call me

And I'll be happy.

I'll be your nightmare

As long as I'm yours.

You can want me dead

As long as you want me.

Just call me what you want,

As long as you call me.

[streetfaggot]

Artistry

The art on your wrists

Decorates my mind

Drawing delicate tears

Drops of paint from my eyes

Faint thin lines

Faded by time

But the memory stays

And so does the feeling

You're my favourite artist 

But I fucking hate your art

I wish you'd stop

And I wish you'd stay

You're all I need

A blank canvas 

To stay that way

But wishes don't come true

And art never stops

Until the canvas is torn and bleeding

And dead

[streetfaggot]

Him - Me- Them - You

I wish my clothes fit me better

I wish it didn't hurt to breathe

I wish my arms were a little bigger

I wish you saw me for me

But I'm a spectacle

And it's a passing fad

I avoid the topic

Avoid making you feel bad

Look at me

I don't feel seen, just inspected

Look at me

I don't feel seen, nor respected

You see what you birthed

Not who you raised

You see your daughter

Not your son

Not someone who wishes his clothes fit him better

Someone who wishes it didn't hurt to breath

Someone who wishes their arms were a little bigger

Someone who wishes you saw him for me

[streetfaggot]

My Ghost

I gave you my heart

As you traced my skin

Pressed soft kisses to my neck

Never have I ever been needed more

Holding me close

Pulling me tighter to your body

Ask me in your voice of honey

For everything I have

Now I have nothing

But it left me willingly

Now I have nothing

But the ghost of your touch

[streetfaggot]

pictures of us

i look at the pictures pictures of us where we're smiling, laughing where we're happy but that's not all we are you made me cry once, maybe twice

all i want is for you to understand

every story needs a conflict every story needs tears even love stories, romances even our story

neither of us are perfect statues are made by putting hammer to stone by putting cracks in the plaster there are mistakes in every painting mistakes that come together to make a masterpiece a masterpiece like us

i've been hurt before and you've been turned down it all led up to this bringing us together so they can never tear us down

i look at pictures of us and know you make me happy i know you make me whole you make me smile and you make the world okay i know you make me happy more than i've been before so even when i cry i know i'll always love you

a poem for @tommythaechalamet

[streetfaggot]

Thanatophobia

Thanatophobia

The fear of death

I know it's coming

It's inescapable

Omnipresent 

In the back of my mind

But at night it loudens

Whispers turn to screams

As once I was seduced

Is death like closing your eyes?

Pervading darkness

Stream of consciousness

Maybe there's reincarnation

Heaven, even Hell

Wishing desperately

I believed in a god

I know what happens

When you die

You turn to nothing

But what is nothing like?

How does it feel?

It doesn't 

All my life I've had my

Consciouness

Since before I remember

I do not know how 

Or what

Exists without it

[streetfaggot]

Prompt: having to resist the urge to grab the other person and pull them into you.

 I knew it wasn’t going to be the most ideal situation. Nobody expects that when they’re dining with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. But I didn’t think it would be that bad.

“Ah, so you’re our son’s best friend,” Lucius spat.

It only got worse from there. Not only was I insulted while having to sit in their pretentious uncomfortable chairs, they were insulting my boyfriend. To his face. Like it was nothing. And he acted like it was nothing.

And then, after one too many wines, they called him a slur. I had to fight the urge to pull Draco into my chest, protecting him from the words that struck out like unforgivable curses.

But I couldn’t. We couldn’t break the ruse of “best friends.”

[streetfaggot]

Prompt: "Stay. I don’t want you to go,” Person A says with a raspy, sleepy voice while grabbing onto Person B’s hand.

It had been a while since we’d started meeting up in the Room of Requirement.

The sneaking out, the way the room would sense our desires for that night, setting up in a way we didn’t even know we needed, it was all so exciting.

It was the same that night. The room had given us a midnight black, plush as sin queen-sized bed, with reds and greens in the velvety fabric that could only be seen when the light from the chandelier hit it just right.

The room was lit with candles smelling of lavender, beautiful, but faint enough that I could still smell the spice on Malfoy’s skin, the scent of his shampoo as we intertwined underneath the covers.

It used to only be hard and fast, rough, but once the initial desperation had been worked past, we often started things out slow. I would caress his jaw, feeling the stubble. He would brush his lips over my hairline, whispering softly in my ear.

 That night had been wonderful. Soft, sensuous, and sinful.

However, it was the first time that we’d fallen asleep afterwards. I suppose the bed was just very comfortable, or maybe it was how safe I felt with him. Regardless, I fell asleep, waking up hours later.

Realising, with what was left of my satisfied, sleepy brain, that Malfoy might not want to wake up next to me, I began to get up.

Searching around on the ground for my robes, and proceeding to pull them on, I stopped when I felt a hand on my own.

Looking down towards the bed, I saw Draco, his sleep-mussed hair, and the confusion in his eyes. I don’t know what it was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”

“Stay,” he whispered, his voice raspy from sleep. “I don’t want you to go.”

And what could I do but oblige?

[artemisdesari-blog]

To my readers:

If your comment is long and rambling and full of quotes you enjoyed, I will love it.

If your comment is full of story related questions, I will love it.

If your comment is a single sentence, I will love it.

If your comment is a single emoji, or a string of them, I will love it.

If you comment, I will love it. It's that simple.

[the-golden-comet]

Reblogging so that all my readers can see this. If you show positive engagement by any means, I will love it. I have loved it, and I will continue to love it 💖✨

[streetfaggot]

I know I don't have many readers at the moment, but I truly do appreciate each and every like, comment and follow. It honestly makes my day <3

[streetfaggot]

Prompt: When Person A looks EXTRA good, so Person B teases them by kissing them on the cheek, neck, jaw, and eventually lips.

After the afterparty of Bill and Fleur’s wedding, Draco and I were curled up together on our couch, just slightly too drunk to make it to the bedroom.

We giggled and poked each other in the dark, and I smelt the wine on his breath as I’m sure he smelt the whiskey on mine.

“Tonight was fun,” I said, after a small bout of wrestling that had ended with me straddling him, pinning his hands above his head.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, panting.

Leaning down, I whispered in his ear. “And you look fucking beautiful tonight.”

“No need to flatter me, Potter.” I could practically hear him blushing.

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, feeling the stubble there, I whisper again. “It’s not flattery, darling.”

“You can’t even see me. It’s pitch black.”

I kiss him on the neck, breathing in his scent. “But I was looking at you all night.”

“Can’t argue with that.” He was breathless. Breathless. I love this man so fucking much.

Another kiss, this time on his chiselled jaw.

“Stop teasing.” The raw need in his voice had blood rushing down into my cock. Night after night of this, of him and it never got old.

“As you wish.” And finally, finally I kissed him on the lips, grabbing onto his tie as I did, pulling him into me. This night had barely just begun.

[streetfaggot]

The Ten Stages of Friends to Lovers

It's funny how friendship sometimes breaks, sometimes bends

(The emotions or conduct of friends)

Or you can grow attached, finding your only one

(Affection, fondness, or sympathy for someone)

Realising your feelings are more than imagination

(A brief but intense infatuation)

Fearing what these feelings may set into motion

(Refusal to acknowledge an unacceptable truth or emotion)

You try to ignore, but she lit a fire

(A yearning desire)

Realising she won't feel the same, impossible salvation

(Willingness to tolerate a difficult situation)

The panic as you realise "she actually likes me"

(Sudden uncontrollable fear or anxiety)

One week in, you think you've found the one

(Be strongly attracted to someone)

You stand together as she heals your every fragment

(A feeling of deep romantic attachment)

And suddenly you know

That no words can describe

The way she makes you feel inside

You could give up on trying

Let the definitions fester

Or try your hardest to explain

Just how much you love her

[streetfaggot]

Pieces of You

You're worried I'll grow sick of you

That I'll find someone else and leave

That I'll see all you are

And see nothing of worth

But I'll tell you every day

I'll scream it to the sky

And whisper it in the night

I see your light in every star

In every blade of grass, your hope

Feel your warmth in every gust of wind

In every stranger, a glimpse of you

You haunt my mind, daybreak to nightfall

You're there in my dreams

And there when I wake

I see your smile, hear your laugh

Even when you're miles away

You're worried I'll grow sick of you

But I see pieces of you everywhere I go

And still, I have not seen enough