February 2012
2 tags
He is real.
I am not.
I am the ghost
of all those awful things.
Horrible,
pitiful things.
I am a reincarnation
of the things the world chose to let go.
I’m a monster.
1 tag
lol my boyfriend likes all these pictures of these women with actually decent bodies
lol i’m not that
i can’t have big boobs or a big butt so the least i can do i guess is be skinny for him
Increments of five.
i just want to eat and get skinny
but i guess the first part is optional.
adipose.
fuck.
This is nothing but a battle of keep away.
From those who love you.
From those who hate you.
From everybody.
I’ve been thirsting for some more sad music. My stomach has been conversing with me for food. My throat is dry from lack of moisture.
But everything is a ghost— moving around in gray blurs.
And nothing looks appealing.
1 tag
Someone once told me that home is what you want to return to time after time.
But I’ve been evicted of all my past residencies. And the only thing to which I have the choice of returning is the hallow within my chest that keeps forging my heartbeat.
Home is so alone.
1 tag
no no no no no no no.
please no.
1 tag
His breath diffuses into your ear and sends goosebumps cascading down your core. And as he inhales he takes what’s left of your mass.
You are now nothing.
And as he relaxes his diapram carbon dioxide fills the black hole where you had been with green wisps. A color show to carry you away, until his need for oxygen brings you back again.
2 tags
“The world comes into the poem.
The poem comes into the world.
Reciprocity—it...”
– Gregory Orr (source: clavicola) (via theyneverlied)
