#raethebee

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satansfaerie:

catch a feelin for my lifestyle

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https://www.instagram.com/satans.faerie/

satansfaerie:

follow me☠️🔪🖤

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satansfaerie: could be your dark angel

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TheObsidianFae:

please bring peep back.

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The bloodied cotton brushed against my tanned thigh, startling me.

How did you get out of your dimension? how did you escape your pussy master and venture into the sunken pits of the bathtub water and DARE to cross my path.

You will rue this day Bloodied Cotton Dementor. You will go down the bathtub drain and into the ocean; swallowed by a great whale just to be SHIT OUT with a bunch of meaningless misfits like yourself.

Leave. Never Return.

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hi guys, i really could use some love tonight.. if any of you could message me & talk i’d appreciate it.

i’m so discouraged as a poet. my work is SO unrecognized when i feel it holds immense value & emotional weight.

it’s like, the authors who put elementary level sentences on 1 page & compile a book out of it become “renowned” but someone putting out actual mentally stimulating pieces will be ignored..

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I don’t know how else to explain these feelings other than this: I am trapped in a straightjacket but I was the one who put it on.  I locked myself inside a metal cage and I swallowed the key, therefore I am stuck.  but im not, I am skin and bones enough to slither between the thin cracks of this prison. this shit sucks. when you can’t even mentally process what place youre in to get out, and the fact that you cant even comprehend YOU put yourself there is the worst. I cant find the words to express how utterly trapped I am within the darkest corners of the maze that is my mind. my emotions are turbulent. they control me entirely.. and when they flip this maze upside down and backwards, thus changing its course, I do nothing to alter it. I remain balled up in the same corner, sniffing whatever I manipulated myself into thinking will bring me the warmth  I’ve never felt. I feel better for a moment. and then I’m buried underneath the tides of my mind once again. trying my best to walk amongst all the normal people when on the inside im constantly debating whether to jump off the nearest bridge, or to just snort every drug in sight so that I would die. and I would die high..i would die with the false sense of happiness. make it fucking stop for fucks sake. make the breathing stop. make the cravings stop. make the heart beating stop. maybe I will feel whatever it is I’ve been looking for in the wrong fucking things when it’s all over.

funeralfaeries