A rush of two bodies and
of heat and of blood.
A rush of adrenaline
already too trippy
for your speed.
Save her, if you can.
There’s some chanting in the
background and everyone
Is she ready for you?
She’ll say she is
but don’t believe her.
She’ll make you promises,
but don’t indulge.
There is wine from
she’s pouring it
towards your mouth.
And your hands-
So filled with fury
Don’t lose yourself
in the music.
Don’t pass out
from the blood
rushing and pumping
at the base of your throat.
lets fuck in an art gallery
i mean you deserve to be pinned up against a wall
you are a masterpiece
Anonymous said: Do you have any tumblr crushes?
Well, obviously 7-weeks is my bae and nobody can really top that.
As far as what you’d consider actual crushes? No.
Today is the one year anniversary of my brother’s suicide so I would like to post this piece in his honor.
Be free, little brother, be free
Throw off your shackles
Embrace the love
you could never find
but was always there
Come visit me
in my dreams
wherever you are,
whatever your form,
you are, exactly,
what you are supposed to be
My darling little brother,
you always were
I lost faith when I lost you.
God felt like a layer of clothing,
A layer of extra warmth in the winter
Whose name you capitalize like Gucci or Prada,
But you walked away in the heat of the Summer
And I realized that the only thing that could save me from The Devil
Was the realization that The Devil doesn’t exist
And maybe you didn’t either.
I started to think that graveyards look like ruins,
But I was shipwrecked by my own rotten nature,
Sunk in the ocean of the heartbroken and the depressed
While Jesus was busy spoiling himself in the Land of the Father.
When fish look up at the cusp of the sea,
Do they think Heaven is beyond that Great Unknown?
That’s what it feels like to look at you now.
On a park bench you lost her,
On that park bench I lost everything,
So I sit there in my dreams just to traipse the line of Life and Death again,
Standing up on sea-legs with a ribcage shaped like anchors.
And I begged God to stand back up on wobbling knees,
Praying just to see him smile again,
Desperately calling out His name just to know that the piece of me in the piece of Him hasn’t died with the image of perfection set up long ago.
And I knew the entire time that I worshipped something that was not,
Just an excuse to kiss his feet
And baptise him in the waters that I’m sinking in.
And you learn that you mistook love for lust, now love begins to feel like atheism.
God smells like intoxication,
God drives like a schizophrenic,
Taking seven different directions and forgetting how to hold the wheel.
Love fades, Gods die.
In the ruins of yourself you hear the honking horns echoes in a distance you traveled long ago.
I lost faith when, three days later, God didn’t rise.
I lost faith when the stone was too heavy for me to roll away.
I lost faith when they made my cross out of the shipwreck,
And the only reason I float on the sea is because wood is lighter than water.
I don’t know if there’s a world above me,
But Heaven and Hell died long ago and here we stand.
I don’t want to see your lips speak hymnals in another mouth.
I have nothing else to confess to you,
But Heaven help me, I love you so much,
God, damn you to Hell so you can live in all of me.
This poem is something that’s really personal to me, because when I fell out of love I ended up losing faith in basically everything. This poem is not meant to disregard or attack anybody’s religion, and I don’t mean for it to offend anyone’s faith if it does, I have a deep respect for any sort of religion and I do personally acknowledge the existence of God, this is just about what I’ve gone through in relations to heartbreak/atheism/other shit.
I might also make this a slam poem, but I’m not sure yet hahahah
as many of you know, i write poetry. my poetry is set to be published in magazines in the future, and i have had fiction published in the past. i do NOT get paid for my writing, though it is one of my passions! if you love my writing and want to support me, PLEASE donate just $2 a month or more! anything counts and you can cancel your subscription anytime! REWARDS AND GOALS ARE GIVEN AS WELL.
read more here: http://www.patreon.com/psychaches
My throat will always
from engulfed flames
I spit fire
I spit acid
my words aim to kill.
There will always be scars.
why we have survived,
why we keep
My fingers will always
but I am not a weak girl.
My stomach will always churn
but I am not a weak girl.”