aquamarine

am i the girl that you dream of

[whosadu]

how do i tell someone that it's not that i don't like them or don't wanna talk to them it's just that im at war with my mind and im keeping my heart from divorcing me and im disconnected from reality and silently digging a grave for myself and trying to keep sane at the same time

[whosadu]

does he miss me

or am i meant to die alone

[whosadu]

if i had nine lives,

i would squander the first spectacularly

i'd become an itinerant thing

salt skinned, ferrous hearted,

sleeping in train stations with constellations

trapped beneath my fingernails

i would let strange cities

unmake me

i would kiss people whose names

i could not pronounce

and leave

before dawn had the chance

to grow sentimental

the second life, i'd make myself a martyr

a soldier

something built exclusively for ruin

i'd march toward catastrophe with my sternum split open like a hymn

letting glory cannibalize me

whole

there is a particular seduction

in being destroyed for a cause

i think i would surrender to it gladly

the third, i'd live it as a poet

which is only another species of self annihilation

i would write verses so hemorrhagic

they stained the hands of anyone who touched them

id survive on cigarettes

and divine dissatisfaction.

id love impossible people with ecclesiastical intensity

i would mistake suffering for profundity

and call every breakdown transcendence

the fourth life, i'd be monstrous

not in the cinematic sense

nothing so elegant.

i mean genuinely unbearable

i would weaponize tenderness

i would kiss with my teeth

i would leave claw marks inside everyone kind enough to try loving me

some lives are consumed by grief before they even begin,

and grief has an appetite.

the fifth, i'd choose obscurity

a little house somewhere rain-drowned and half-forgotten.

i'd learn the sacramental silence of ordinary devotion

soup simmering on the stove,

laundry perfumed with lavender,

someone murmuring my name not out of desperation but habit

perhaps that life would wound me most of all

there is nothing more terrifying than peace when you were raised on emotional arson

the sixth life, i think, i would spend searching for you.

through crowds

through decades

through every face that almost resembled yours in poor lighting

i have the terrible suspicion

that every incarnation of me was always orbiting every incarnation of you

as though the universe itself had mistaken our devastation for destiny

the seventh life, i would finally find you

and you would be catastrophic

you'd arrive carrying your own weather system

your own famines, your own wreckage, your own exquisitely sharpened silences

i would love you immediately and against all biological instinct,

the way drowning people

must love the sea despite knowing exactly what it does to them

you would teach me that

intimacy can resemble vivisection.

that to be adored by another person is

to be slowly consumed alive.

we would ruin each other with almost religious commitment

still, i would stay

god, i would stay.

the eighth life would be spent surviving

the aftermath of you

rooms still fragrant with your absence

half written messages.

the humiliating archaeology of heartbreak

receipts, photographs, strands of your hair caught in sweater seams like relics

i would become fluent in longing

i would carry your ghost beneath my tongue until even my prayers began sounding like your name

and the ninth?

the ninth life, i would return to you

not because you were good.

not because we were gentle with one another

but because after eight lifetimes of running, destroying resurrecting, yearning

i would finally understand that some loves are not meant to save you

some loves arrive as apocalypses

they level you to the foundation

until there is nothing left but the most naked, incurable part of yourself

and i would meet you there

old now

our bodies fragile as burnt paper

your hands trembling against my jaw while evening gathered soft and blue around us.

i would forgive you for every cruelty

every abandonment

every time you loved me with one foot already facing the exit

not because forgiveness was deserved

but because my love for you had long since evolved beyond morality

it had become geological

something tectonic

something capable of surviving extinction events

and when death finally came to collect us

patient as winter at the foot of the bed

i would curl my ruined body around yours one final time

and think

there.

there is the terrible privilege of having loved someone enough

to spend every single life becoming undone by them.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

forget about secondhand embarrassment. have you ever felt secondhand awkwardness? like when you're watching something on tv and the characters start acting awkward around each other and you just feel awkward too 😭

[whosadu]

do you think we'll be in love forever?

[whosadu]

rereading my journal from when i was depressed is like rewriting my svicide note. writing myself a eulogy. wtf. why was i THAT sad.

[whosadu]

you're my pretty

fairy boy

honey brown skin glowing

like sunlight poured over warm earth

like amber held up to the sky

gold lives in you

in the curve of your shoulders

in the softness of your throat

in the way light refuses

to leave your body

im your dying nymph

all wilted roses and river sighs

pale with longing

half myth half bruise

but for you ill try

ill rise from the water

salt dripping from my lashes

learn how to live

in the warmth of your hands

for you ill paint a kiss

petal pink against your honey brown skin

soft and reverent

like art pressed to canvas

you glow

and i orbit

you burn gold

and i thaw

pretty fairy boy

sun drenched and gentle

hold my unraveling softly

let me rest against your warmth

and maybe i am not dying

maybe i am just waiting

for your honeyed light

to bring me back to bloom

[whosadu]

feed me once

and ill follow for more

im your local mangy black dog

the one who licks his paws clean

the one who eats trash

the smell of your cherry perfume

makes me go feral

i promise i wont bite you

i promise ill stay

i promise-

ill follow you around till

you call me a nuisance

and the hit of a stone teaches me distance

till blue and red lights call for unwanted mercy

i just wanted to be a part of your family

a bowl that stayed

a leather collar with my name

but maybe the hard cold is what my home is

maybe i was inherited by closed doors

maybe i can't be fed by your hands

maybe i was meant to circle warmth

but never

enter it

maybe it's not in

my destiny

this is what i say when im brought away

to the asylum for beating things

that loved hard

behind the bars

they say that's where i belong

i press my body to the cage

hoping it's your arms

i belong there right?

i think.

don't i?

please tell me i do.

[echoesofsaturn]

"slut era" i say as i rot and decay in my bedroom and watch the years pass me by as i miss out on core experiences other people my age are having while i think about the past

[sondriyaaaa]

I'll always miss the childhood I never got to live.

[whosadu]

i need a fucking bowl of ramen fuck this stupid stomach infection and fuck u antibiotics and fuck u

[sinister-flower]

Yesterday evening answering emails and finish tasks with some chamomile tea.

[academic-vampire]

𝔠𝔦𝔫𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔬𝔫 & 𝔳𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞

[mzmzmzmz-deactivated20260529]

[1111angelgirl1111]

gloomy midwest winter

[whosadu]

im not the one you want, babe

the trial you never asked for

the crime without a name

you keep loving me

like im the innocent one

and i keep waiting

for the sentence

that will gut punch u like a bitch

your hands are warm

mine are always packing

you deserve a life

that isn’t built

inside an apology

on shifting sand

knocking down at the sign of every inconvenience

like a ship that disappears when the dockyard

gets too close

but i stay anyway

like a bad law

that wont repeal itself

and one day

youll wake up free

and call it love

and ill call it loss

[sondriyaaaa]

The brusque nature of life often takes us by surprise.

Are you really tugging at the chains locking up my ankles?

Yet you laugh so cruelly at the desperation in my eyes.

The rain falls down on me, resembling a burden pressing down on my shoulders, suppressing my breaths.

There’s a loud crack, the ribs break and the soul falls apart.

It really is a privilege to love the rain isn’t it?

I doubt that time could heal this heart. That same heart begs me to believe the lips that spoke the contrary.

Lost from my grip, the pristine nature I once possessed.

That I now look at with contempt,

scrubbing, rubbing at every fragment, I don’t think any liquid could purify the filth.

For it calls for my blood.

The skin falling off of my bones, holding onto its dear life

Wondering what faith by the god could hold this chassis

It all sounds so morbid when spoken out loud,

perhaps etching it into paper might fulfill the emptiness.

Glass half full or glass half empty?

But what if the glass is shattered?

Would you pick up the shards and prick your skin?

Tainted with the blood that runs in these veins.

Destiny takes a hand, written in the womb from my past life.

My body is on fire, karma takes the blame. It’s a ghostly scene.

The chants on the tip of my tongue only say, "The statue built to collapse". At last this skeleton gave way.

Fall from the sky like Icarus and straight into that damning grave.

[whosadu]

my god spitting bars