stay with me~

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Things I keep falling in love with.

Hysteria QueenMy spine is a code
for you to hack
and crack
open like little
white moon flowers
(  I was never good
at “closed,”
except when I
couldn’t  be.  )
I keep falling down
thought wells
and nothing seems
clear enough—good enough,
while you sit and smoke
without realizing you’ve
caught fire.
  Haystack-2 by ncgirl <da:thumb id="389508864"/>


   Too Stupid To TellAs much as I hate to admit it,  I am one of those people who are stuck on being 'polite', even when my heart is clasped to a clothesline like a bed sheet by a single clothespin in the midst of a ravenous rainstorm.
She was what I would call a dearly adored friend. Even when I found out that she and I were helplessly in love with the same man, I decided that she deserved to be with him and so I pinned myself to my own cross to be her way to him. It was only near the end that he found out what it is I was trying to do. I saw an expression on his face that I had never seen him show me before; I wasn't too sure if it was disdain or dismay, but I felt both from the depths of my being.
He thought that I was spending more time with him only simply because I wanted to be with him and that I had only brought up her name so often because she was a common friend and a great conversation topic.
He was in love with me and yet I was too stupid to tell. I couldn't be their bridge and had burned the o
Equilibrium by iNeedChemicalX  <da:thumb id="400921865"/>  Le Corset de la Mort. by MirrorWishes

moonsongthe crescent moons bitten into my palms
break apart the hard worn lines written
there. a fortune teller told me
it was just a matter of time before my
universe crashed in on itself
and my stars ripped themselves apart.
your gray-sky-eyes swallowed me whole
and i fell down, down, down
while your piano key fingers played
my melody one last time.
<da:thumb id="390834222"/> he's just not that into youlong-legged and twitching
like the spiders
you watch run
down the
drain,
he doesn’t call
you pretty. you remember
his hands tracing the ink
of your veins, but he
doesn’t call you pretty.
he doesn’t hold
the door, and you
think you’re a liar
but the truth is quivering
naked in your voice
(we will name our children after
extinct kingdoms; dead beautiful
things. i will polish the dull spot
in your eye that you developed
after a terminal case of unnoticed
living. i will never be a cure but
damn it if i won’t be a diagnosis)
the static of his vocal chords
brings you back, martyr
without a cause,
he doesn’t call
you pretty and you
don’t question why.



<da:thumb id="349454118"/>  Calm Sea by elzix  Solar prominences by iNeedChemicalX


Blue Smocking in the True Essence of Time"You have no idea what time is going to do to you."
The girl was certainly no older than me, certainly. In fact, she looked at least ten years younger than me, and her dark blue, smock-like top the drugstore chain made her wear at the register made her look even younger and more childish.
If I allowed myself a moment of superficiality right then, I would have said there was nothing special about her: not her hair style, not her face, not her body, not her smile, not her eyes or even the tone of her voice.  In fact, there was something slightly non-pleasing about all those elements of her, but I couldn't quite put my finger on exactly why.  Maybe everything about her was just a little "off' by the world's standard of what was beautiful and what wasn't.   Regardless of that, though, I realized that at 2:00am, when I was the only customer in the store full of everything a person could need at 2:00am, it was an odd thing for her to say to me as I walked in and passed the che

SnowblindSnowblind
Here, I’ll describe it for you:
It’s deep winter and you’re lost. The sky is ruptured overhead. The myth of progress stains you. The muted road is all that’s left (you’ve no choice but to take it). Almost solemn, but not enough to make you turn back; it’s at once an anomaly and a godsend. The indents in this bleach-white wasteland propel you further, deeper towards that howling rift. You cannot see (it doesn’t matter); the whole of it is frozen and that should be enough. But it’s not enough, is it? You still hold that question (that unanswered) inside you, close to the skin, in the vain hope you might get some reward. Too stubborn to let go, and so you drag it with you onward.
Shivering and penitent you march. No way to tell if it’s morning or night or months ago or closer than you wanted. More questions considered, though not nearly so heavy. You should have dropped it when you had the chance; left it in the snow o
  ArielI am not your deity,
a bowl of stars
in your cereal
revolves around something
bigger than me
because
I'm your fucking
groceries that end
up in the garbage
with your hair clippings
and
grease on a crummy
sandwich-promise
of what you want
to call home
because
you can't count on me
or I'll come away
in your hands
like broken-up bread
please don't think of me
before you go to bed
I won't answer your prayers
  door slammed, house screamedburned red hot in december
my hands in the fire place flame
my eyes on your hunger as you
crept toward me, I burned
and woke ash
in your calloused, careless palms
and you brushed them in quiet
motions upon your thighs and
I fell in fragile dust slowness
to the frozen floor, my cheek resting on
the shivering wood
and I stared at your dull thump footsteps
away from my dull thump heart
the vibrations loud in my ear
muffled the ugliness of the world
death is the sound of the door creaking
shut and I am frost bitten gone
december cold


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Nullibicity's avatar

This is indeed an honor :iconbowplz: thank you so much, again, for even thinking of including me. What an incredible surprise and gift! I really, really appreciate it :heart::rose:

Have a fantastic day, you lovely soul.