#andiewrites

[andiewrites]

august 11; 9:10am

there is a line I can’t seem to continue. I’ve been thinking about it for days now,

“and I looked up-“

then what? saw the stars? saw your face? felt the tears fall down, felt the rain pour in its place? I’m not sure what I’m looking up to. I can’t seem to picture it, but I’ll keep looking up if that’s the case

[andiewrites]

you

The sight of you causes my body to tense The vibrations I feel are not of my phone But of the numbing of my brain as we are alone For with you, nothing now makes sense

The sound of you causes red flags to rise I'd listen to a story a thousand times over If it told me tales all about you And the fire that seems to ember within your eyes

The thought of you causes my barriers to break Cement was never that strong anyways Because nothing like my loud pleas to make it stop Can match to the way you make my heart ache

For you can cause hurricanes and landslides You made a calamity of my mind My thoughts are debris scattered, just hoping That you can put me together when we collide

[andieafterdark]

✧ ANDIE AFTER DARK — HOUSE RULES ✧

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☾ Some of my work will include smut / explicit content. I do my best to include clear warnings and tags where needed (please feel free to tell me if I missed any though). I do not write non-con/rape in smut, but some stories may include heavier or uncomfortable themes, and those will always be warned for.

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— andie ✧

[thelipstickhippy]

And then Bon Iver said, "Baby, let's stay in bed and listen to some NPR.

And then Bon Iver said, "Baby, let's stay in bed and listen to some NPR. Sing out of the window to me while I find some chamomile in the garden for tea!" He slipped on his moccasins and kissed me on the forehead. His beard smelled like woodsmoke and honeycomb.

My first attempt at Bon Iver Erotica.

[thelipstickhippy]

I never want to be called beautiful ever again.

Not even on my wedding day or after I give birth to my first child or when my hair falls just so. Don't say that word at me. Beautiful is achieved by this and that and if you're lucky enough you're born with it. Beautiful is something that you spend time making yourself. Beautiful is not a compliment any more. Tell me that I'm selfless. That my taste in music is tops. I am perceptive to the point it's psychic and it kind of freaks you out. That my jokes make you want to piss yourself and my body is still looks strong from all the years I was a tomboy swinging from tree branches. Say you want to travel the world with me because sleeping under the stars in every country is a dream we share and I'm crazy good at finding restaurants nobody has ever heard of. Tell me my poetry is heartbreaking and know my bitten nails mean I was just thinking too hard about all the different words you can use to describe how people's houses smell the first time you walk into them. Say you love hugging me because I squeeze just a little too long and the way I can sit in comfortable silence is divine. The life stories I make up for strangers on the BART train are fantastical and my anxieties are ugly ugly things and you want to hold me at night when I wake up in a sweat soaked panic. Don't call me cute call me vast and brilliant and intelligent. Tell me I'm a true pisces because everything pretty makes me cry, my first word was "fish" and I love the smell of lavender. Tell me how annoying it is when I send 4 text messages in a row because I'm too excited to contain it all but you'll forgive me because you like to know I care. Call me strong for revealing my weaknesses and earnest for pursuing new friendship. Tell me my hips make you melt because we're predispositioned to mates who will make great parents to our young and damn baby you're biologically radical. Tell me I have stinging wit and make a fucking great puttanesca and my singing voice is actually not that terrible every now and then. Scold me for my escapism and praise me for the days I don't leave school before I've even parked the car because class makes me depressed. Say you want to listen to Wait Wait Don't Tell me on Sunday mornings while we lay naked in bed eating sourdough toast. Acknowledge that I wear scarves around my neck when I feel a migraine coming on and don't be overwhelmed by the fact that I fall head over heels in love with everything so quickly. Tell me the way I drink coffee knocks your socks off and how I remember almost every customers name at my supermarket job is neat-o. Don't ever make fun of Frida Kahlo because she is my Jesus and please be gentle with my heart because I give it away all the time and sometimes when it returns back to me it's a little bruised. Call me intense call me absurd call me Andrea Mairead because I'm just learning to love my second name. Call me your lotus flower call me your honeybee call me everything that a woman is truly. Make love to me always and never call me beautiful because beautiful isn't a compliment it's a predisposition and I am more than just something assigned to lucky ones.

[thelipstickhippy]

Maverick glass prick.

Ten years ago I slipped on broken glass in a parking lot

Pulled out all of the shards and limped for a week

Today I itched and discovered a single maverick glass prick under my skin

It doesn’t hurt anymore but after all of this time I wish you would get out of my knee

[thelipstickhippy]

2:39am, first draft.

Oh my naiveties

Don’t discount my naiveties

I give my heart away at least thrice daily and I’d take a bullet for a stranger and I give away pieces of myself to these people

all these masses of people

I have to save right now

Oh my naiveties

Don’t discount my naiveties

don’t mistake my earnest angst for those saving face with a happy face as naivety

and you believe it’s naivety I wear my heart on this sleeve kind of naiveties

Oh my naivety Don’t discount my naiveties Because I have been to those dark places and can see the things they’re displacing as one line too many one line of coke too many Because I have been haunted by those teethed caverns just the same God damned naiveties Oh my naivety don’t you discount my naiveties because they are the patches I’ve affixed to my fingertips to stop the slink from dripping out of me and staining you with the same acidic ink that I was burned and slathered with the night of my rape naiveties

[thelipstickhippy]

You made me into your own Giving Tree

and i'm the veiny remnants of leaves 

who used to canopy you

//

i'm the fallen fruit pungent with rot

left from yields i willed for you

//

i'm splintered pieces of wood after you took my body

to escape somewhere without me

//

still and still

my tombstone will read

//

"And the tree was happy."