nayx:
me, decomposing on my bed: sending you all good vibes :)
good morning to the brown nipples, flat booties, older daughters, french haters, lingerie aficionados, messy brows, misandrists, skincare beaus, seasonal coffee lovers, weebs, attention deficients, tall girls, 🥺 users, oatmeal eaters, rancid personalities, gemini moons, matte lip haters, and girls with bad joints
“cum in me” is the most romantic sentence in the English dictionary
someone asked me how you move on. do they know i still dream about you. waited to see if you’d say anything on my birthday, was kind of hoping for an opening. my mother says you sound different when you talk about her. i hold you like a coal on the back of my tongue.
how do we move on? i take pictures of flowers, of ferns, of things i think you would like. i brush my teeth and braid my hair and sing badly and nothing echoes good inside of me. i write poems about birds and burns and bleach and they all reek with the absence of you because not-writing about you is still writing about you. in my favorite daydream i come home to you and just kiss you and hold a candle to the dry tinder and propane, call conflict seeing sparks.
how do we move on? i guess. like this. i eat too many watermelon sourpatch candies because they’re my favorite. it makes my tongue bleed. i can’t taste anything for hours afterwards. i keep chewing long past the hurting. this is how next time i don’t say yes. this is how i light you out of me like a sunburn. this is how i chase out all this sharp white want. i say - okay. just this once. and then we need to walk away.
okay just this once. okay just this once. okay. just today. and then we move on.
rise and shine to lesbians and bi women😍😍😍 stay hydrated and stay sexy 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 everyone else….😒 good morning i guess…. 😐
how simple a torture, the skin of her. i understand why persephone chose the pomegranate. doesn’t my dear have a blush that sets the world on fire. i want to eat her on the church steps and when they say - i am praying for you - i will say. do not worry. i have already taken holy into my mouth.
““I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.””— Pablo Neruda, Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines
(via goodreadss)