#spille ink

[des-vanecido]

Sígueme en Va-cíos

[writings-of-the-cosmos]

"I have learned that I cannot demand love from anyone. I can only give good reasons to be loved... And have patience so that life does the rest."

William Shakespeare

[marxsound]

the july agenda (da da da dum)

MORE guitar porn MORE living composers More “looking for diamonds” (maybe some more art or writing prompts, too)

[semi-skimmed-poems]

and so what if sometimes I think I'm an alien?

so what if I don't get along with humans the way everyone else does?

maybe you're the alien!

maybe you should've stayed on earth for a little bit longer, buddy! 

maybe when you forced an artificial swoon out of me with your date rape drug bullshit

you should’ve realised that there are consequences to fucking a dead girl

you should’ve known the kid was gonna be fucked up- half alien and half me, of all things!

but I loved her!

just because the kid wasn't meant to live on this earth doesn't mean she couldn’t’ve

I mean, look at me.

I don't think I’m meant to be here either and I’m doing just fine.

[she-wears-glasses]

What Lies Beneath

What lies beneath her

bright eyes, and

smile

is a woman who cries

when alone.

What lies beneath

her laughter

is a woman who appreciates

any tiny amount of

happiness

that she receives

in a cruel world.

What lies beneath

her sarcastic jokes

is a woman who knows she’s

almost never taken seriously.

She knows that most people

can’t comprehend

her mind,

and so they treat her

like she’s the

real joke.

[killbukowski]

Today, an angel crashed into my bedroom and told me the world was going to end

And then the world ended and I became that angel and the world bled honey like it did in that dream I had when I was six

And I remember losing my first tooth and I remember the feel of flesh and how it felt to be touched and I remember falling off my bike when I was 12 and bleeding on the concrete

And the world is ending under my skin and I want to ask if you remember being fifteen and at sixteen I watched a man overdose at the bus station

And the world ended for him and now the world is ending for me

And there are no angels, not anymore, not at the end of the world

- The Angel at the End of the World (S.L)

[killbukowski]

There is a rose petal Stuck between the teeth of a god. He took rock to the wrist And struck gold in his skin. He bled sunlight, Kind of like Icarus But not half as cliche. It was kind of like rain. There is a rose petal Torn by thorn, Stepped on by the god's heel. He walks on red. He walks like a god should, Like a god must. He walks as if he hasn't forgotten The rose petals at all.

Rose Petals (S.L.) // national poetry writing month day 6, no prompt