She was bored with most of the people she was fucking.
In most terrible depths live only the damned;
A crocodile in a summer dress.
She spent her youth looking up at the stars,
dreaming about what was up there.
Other worlds, and
a mysterious object
on the oceans of Titan.
But like the movements of a caged animal,
she was always haunted by the idea
that she was wasting her life.
And he didn’t understand
i find it so incredibly attractive when someone is really good at something, like you can play the violin? damn son. you’re a really talented dj? good for you! i don’t care if you talk to me about quantum physics for an hour straight if i can see the passion in you at some point in that hour i’ll think “whoa, this is really hot.”
I actually really like this ad campaign.
I just want to lay in bed with someone in our underwear and make out, watch movies and fuck like 3 or 10 times
We stopped checking for monsters under our beds when we realized they were inside us.
THINGS I LIKE
- when people use my name in conversation
- when people say “this reminded me of you!”
- when people remember little things i say/do
- when people genuinely thank me for things i’ve done for them
- when i think of the same thing at the same time as someone else and you give each other the look
Here are the days, spread out in front of you like a deck of cards. Do you want to see a magic trick? Pick a day, any day, and I’ll tell you if you’ve met me yet.
Queen of Hearts. It is a Thursday and you love me already. It is a Thursday and I love you back. I fall flat into a puddle when I turn the corner and see you, and we spend the next four hours in the rain. If I keep going, the days will get shorter and the sun coming up will be the rise and fall of my chest while I sleep.
King of Diamonds. I do. I show the ring to everyone we’ve ever met and I dance with all of my ghosts before telling them that I am leaving for good. You still love me the way you did when I was a stranger, and I can’t decide if that is a good thing. Pick another card.
Four of Clovers. It is a Monday and our car breaks down, so we pass the time in the back seat, whispering stardust into each other’s skin. I would unfold galaxies to have this day back. We forget to call AAA and fall asleep with our bare skin sticking to the leather seats. I love you more than I promised.
Ace of Spades. It is winter. We bury ourselves under the soil and sleep until our skin feels warm again. You wake up and don’t love me the same way. I kiss you and the leaves don’t grow back. Winter continues for 6 weeks while we try to find old love notes pressed under our eyelids and fingernails. All I find is HOME scribbled in lipstick in the hollow of your collarbone.
You have been the love of my life. It is okay that you left, even though you took a few of my things with you. You don’t want to pick another card. You’re crying. I tell you that this doesn’t change anything, that everything is beautiful even while it is ending.
You say you don’t believe in magic anymore.
Come closer. I want to see the way you doubt.
- Jenna Anne (via c-oquetry)
Painless ways to kill yourself.
i. There is no painless way to kill yourself, someone, somewhere, will feel the pain.
ii. The internet says, “sleeping pills, you will fall asleep and never wake up! You won’t feel a thing!” When that is a lie, your stomach will turn to fire and your throat will fill with the taste of your own stomach acid. You will drown in your own spit. That isn’t even the worst party, it’s when your mother comes home from work. She will walk through the door, and call out your name. She will call and call and there will be no response, maybe you’re in the shower? Maybe you’re asleep? She will walk up the stairs, knock on your door to receive no answer. When she walks in she will see the lifeless body of her baby girl, lying on the floor. Her heart will stop but she will run to you with shaky knees, touching your face that is now still and cold. Her body will be on fire, and her throat will begin to tighten, the sharp pains in her chest will feel like knives in the heart. That image will kill her more than her own death, it will haunt her living years each night. She will no longer be alive, but just as dead as you are now.
iii. Years ago, your father showed you the gun safe he kept in the house in case of emergencies, you knew the pass code, you knew how to shoot and loud, at least you had an idea. They say a bullet to the brain will do the job.. So one night, when your father is fast asleep, you will be down the hallway staring down the mouth of a gun.
One, two, three..
Your father’s heart will jump and his body will follow, the first thing he thinks of is you. He will scream your name and run down the hallway and bang on your door. It’s locked. His knees begin to feel weak as he bruises his body trying to knock down the door, the first sight he see’s in blood splattered on the wall. At that moment his breath began to stop, and his eyes wandered to yours. Still open, but no more life inside your shell. He will drop to his hands and knees and scream why, why, why. There will never be a day he won’t hate himself, for keeping a gun in the house, for not making you happy, for not knowing. He will live a life without a son, live a life with an empty space. Live a life of hurt, and hatred for himself.
iv. You may think that when you’re dead and gone you will not be hurting anyone. You may think when you slide a blade across your wrist, you’re only hurting yourself. Yet I have learned that is not true, it’s not. The person who will find your body, the one who see’s the cuts, their chest will feel tight and they will feel like it was their fault for letting it get this far. The only mark you will be leaving on them is pain, hurt, and the question why? So please note this, there is pain in every suicide attempt, every death, every cut. You are not only hurting your life, but others too. Because you are cared for."
- Safia Elhillo, “susie knuckles in love” (via oofpoetry)