Ephemera

30, NREMT-B, 409 Reject. Sad boy's club. 

[milksshrimp]

gold

[transient-loss]

morning to night i hear the sirens call- the swan-song of my innocence. i only ever wanted to walk unafraid. now, at the precipice of who i should've been, and who i had to become-to survive. the boxed up wounds, the memories- they cut like a knife, when i can no longer sleep. i can lay claim to more ghosts than i ever wanted. when can i just give up, and force myself to let go? because as often as  i want to lay them to rest, these ghosts echo in me, and won't let me be.

it’s been a fucked two years on the rig...i think i’m starting to break, i think i’m starting to crack. i just keep showing up because i can’t do anything else.

[gacougnol]

Diana Nicholette Jeon

[artemius]

guilty pleasures

[cmfwritings]

“I don’t heal. I drown the aches in bottles of rum and bury them deep in cigarette ashes. I cope.”

[transient-loss]

i honestly only look at my facebook photos so i can see where i went and fucked it all up.

[transient-loss]

 by: (DKT)

This nice. 

[transient-loss]

[transient-loss]

[transient-loss]

i’m fine

i’m fine

i’m fine

i’m fine

i’m fine

i said i’m fucking fine.

[transient-loss]

someone i used to love donated her heart to another person, when she died. i’m really happy, i’m really happy..but i’m still crying a lot more.

[transient-loss]

i forgive you, for leaving me it was all my fucking fault.

[buttonpoetry]

I am the opposite of forgiveness. I am all rage & shriek & flame.

Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak (via buttonpoetry)

[transient-loss]

I need foreign soil under my feet.

[nosebleedclub]

Discussion 2/15/19

1. Anxiety 2. Secret life 3. Dried hydrangeas 4. Hotel 5. Makeshift burial

[doughtahturn]

1. He took his torn hands/And caught at his throat/It rode up on the bubbles of his soda/And burned like water down the wrong pipe.

2. Pavement ate away at one soul/And his wife’s laughing words to their child/Rang and Rang and Rang in his empty, thick head/”He’s going to his Other family.”/He shushes her in his thoughts/And feels the water going down the wrong pipe.

3. —brushes away the mess of decay/From the children’s headstone/They’d been a pretty purple shade once./Half-thinking they can hear him,/He hums a tone they sang constantly./The tears rise and fall - little rivers -/As he looks to his wife’s name.

4. He’s tired.

5. She drags him into the woods./With a handful of dirt and a shovel/She dresses him with love./His shoulds and his mights all gone,/She fixes his shirt, does not grovel,/And presses him close./His heart blooms with mushrooms/By her next arrival.

[transient-loss]

“we purged on the milk of new treason“

[transient-loss]

can the whispers be turned up a bit? so i am not the only one that hears them.... would you still have the same orange-peel smile? this city breeds despair   like north texas cattle. here i watched my own zeal die, over, and over, while i spent days on the third floor wrapped in cold sheets now i watch my resolve and memories dissolve with a tablet on my tongue- numbing like an aspirin. swallowing ghosts is easy as swallowing my words i ate my mother-tongue like grapes that dionysus would envy. let me sleep let me sleep i wish we could speak, like our flames demand.

transitioning from insanity, to hate, to....fuck i am so sorry for crying, i promise i’ll try harder this time. i wish i wasn’t like this, and i miss you, i miss me, i miss not wanting to be some other me...to: im alright.