Deep sigh.

Deep sigh.

grudge fucking

.


I lost him, you know;
somewhere in the distant thoughts
of falling lights
and fraying thereafter;

I lost him to himself—
to his own condemning mirages,
to my own shortcomings borne,
where flesh is wilted with wasp stung promises
and his smile is never mine anymore;

his eyes were once precious,
now just glass and rust,
gleaming demon, blind as his intent;
and I am an echo
of torn wings and powdery tears;
settling into the sea bed burrows,
drowning in a watery hell,

but, where our speak has hesitated
and our lives have deviated,
our bodies remembered…


his mouth was a wordless war,
his tongue a berserker; buried deep, clawing in;
striking me down before he even worked up a sweat,
I gave in to him, surrendered full;

and I realized he knew,
knew I’d been wandering all this time apart,
reaching for any outstretched hands
to pull me in and away,
away from the stagnant pond
where we linger like fools,
waiting for the sun,
waiting for a ripple,
waiting; just waiting…
and my weakness maddened him;

he brought me so quickly
that supernovas were buzzing alive in my neck,
shooting sparks through my veins;
a hard lesson taught—

Never forget where you lay, woman,
when you’re in my arms…


there was anger and spite in his grip
and his eyes were a tidal wave
when he tore himself into me,
a grudge in his strokes—
and he took me like a wildfire,
spread me like the flames,

the heat was his brand
and I threw my cries and moans against his hips
to meet him; to fill in the spaces of his silence,
to appease this wrathful God above me;

he slammed in full
and my body was trying to contain him,
desperately wanting to be able to hold him in;
all of that length, that girth;
only matched by the size of his lust and fever;
he watched me die aloud,
screaming breathless as I went;

and from then, I was weightless;
suspended on hooks and cords,
hanging in that moment forever, high in the sky
between pleasure blue and psychedelic death,
just a banshee of a woman
baying at the moon and slithering through the stardust;
and he moved against me like a beast,
his own need taking him over,

I watched him then;
his eyes crush-closed,
weeping willow lashes laying on his cheeks,
a soft growl building in his throat,
steel hips and electric in his thighs,
leaping up and through me,
barely missing,
snapping,
connecting…


and I felt a rush at the tip, ready to spill;
I tried to look away—
you can find your downfall in the planes and angles,
there’s too much truth to be seen
in the face of a man amidst throes;
but, I can never turn away from him
and fear set into my blissful bones suddenly;

at the beginning of his final stroke,
he leaned down,
laid his mouth over mine
and kissed his release into me,
slid his coming past my lips,
exhaling directly into my soul;

and he stayed there,
it’s where he lives now,
my heart refuses to notice that he’s gone,
that he may never be back again


.

I NEED THIS IN MY LIFE

I NEED THIS IN MY LIFE

ralfmaximus:

neverbat:

farorescourage:

kaplands:

we should talk more about how ‘macaroni’ in 18th century england was used to mean ‘fashionable’ because a bunch of rich young dudes went to italy and really liked the stuff there

language is weird

humans are weird

Mindblown

the walker

.

shades dress the stiletto tips of my warring eyelashes,
as spiderweb lace;
tea-stained and heavily perfumed,
sticky and netted with sanguine fireflies,
trapped in a matte darkness that imbibes all blazes;
fire-eater; flame-licker; coal-hearted god;

looming;
draped across corner views and sideways glances;
crying;
weeping in fluted sighs, in deaf-toned sirens;
begging for presence,
I serenade them each night 
before the Sandman lays hands on me,
with praising fingers; punishing palms;
a rumpled descant of longing and regret,
to rest these relics of mine,

and I sleep in a chalk outline;
a dullness laid to rest with Cassiopeian hymns;
these entities speak to me,
muttering against my lobes,
tongues flicking, words quickening;
of white-washing and duplicitous sparks;
to extinguish and bury culprits,
sentenced as dying embers for their betrayal,
for their malicious burning;

I drink their whispers as water;
crystal-clear and pure;
melding with the flow of my thoughts
and to every mitochondrial ache in my existence;
these mists are nothing of worldly shifts,
only of homeless souls,
of impish intent;
preying on praying fools;

I am as lost as dandelion fluffs floating in tulip fields,
delighted in the aria anemones;
a sea dotted with rai rays,
like pollen jetstreams in a seed-scattered sky,
or ash-tufting volcano zephyrs;

but, I carry a shallow slip of drink
to whet a scorching keen,
a sharp, twisting trestle of reason
to present my madness with purpose;
to command the floating apparitions
of my empyrean dwell,
set them on task,
to alight in the bone-weary cravings of my desire;

he of fiery pyre,
of smoking depths and umbra natur;
with sculpting hands,
lined and weathered,
heavy with mire; testamented toiling;
a man of scant confessions,
with wintry stares and raw penchant,
scruffy; scouring me as scum
to scrape away from pristine dream work;
a crag of a man,
that I love and crave,
grim and gorgeous, simpering statue man,
beautiful and delicate,
beyond his armoured crinoline chest,
in the space between his shoulders,
where my cheek had fit so perfectly;

coaxing; enticing into play,
these clouds of translucence, orbiting my yonder’d azure;
babbling endlessly as the tides lap at my legs,
bathing silk in salt to prepare for chiseled lips;
cleansing, consecrating my flesh to him,
dedicating every cell to his name;
smothering me when he does not come;
to rest in shredded cycles of repose;
tossing and turning;
grabbing dissipating phantoms of urgency;
of scheming intent; 
artful demon that slides inside of me
and stokes me into heady dementia;
a tourniquet to my ambition,
my lascivious longing;
wanton wandering into certain death,
be it little
or final;

I act as he dares; his marionette,
strung on the ends of careless murmurings
and reckless deeds;
dancing as a swaying corpse
in the arms of a traveler of worlds;
a dallying prince of the universe,
he marries wayward spirits
and lures creatures of land and gravity
into his weightless palm-snares
made of the words of wraiths, his wives,
guised as gospel, as phantasmic revelations;
as thieving ghosts;

sweltering sylph, shaking beneath deft fingers,
reaching for sky-blue;
to wrap tendrils of clouds between the pads 
of exalting hands,
oh God, of my sun, of my psyche;
this fire and quickening;
for the feather-light, iron clasp,
breathing shallow beneath illusory quaking,
my veins pumping flighty
and pressing fleshy life lines;
sweetened in the volcano,
bursting and hissing around bitten lips,
a penumbra dance, cheeks awash and colour high,
swooning in the arms of midnight,
pleading the moon for favour,
for just a moment’s clarity,
a sure step into the sky
and a slipping of the knots burning my throat
away into steely words and chloroform hisses;
a sweet possession to make me light
in the fog of my mind,
to give me a voice that does not fray
when I am unsteady in this leapt echo


.

I hate being emotional, but I really needed to see this.

I hate being emotional, but I really needed to see this.

Yes. Yes. A million times, YES.

Yes. Yes. A million times, YES.

Front of my mirror compact. I just want to be this woman so badly. That body, that confidence, that smile. 
#plussizepower #art #bbw #admiration #aspiration #beauty

Front of my mirror compact. I just want to be this woman so badly. That body, that confidence, that smile.
#plussizepower #art #bbw #admiration #aspiration #beauty

silt

just a voice, a slow-spilling chorded forever,
gravel and sand in my words, crashing hard,
breathing out the creases, the ripping;
words soaked with giving in, the fighting fading
into all the truths that will never fall from my eyes;
 
the sea-stained ventricles, my rocking heart;
a sky stolen from beneath my pacing hope,
I was becoming the rain, my body sliding down the planes,
falling into the corners of his lips,
dangling from the tip of his nose,
living in the lines of his palms
and his pores were eating me alive,
drinking me and drinking me and choking;
 
I am not strong enough to die alone,
not with these stars in my bones,
the quiet vacuum of nothing folding me;
 
the dust in my veins are brilliant
and my guts are dancing nebulae,
roving pictures of stricken entities,
of time-sworn worlds, of forgotten matter,
of withstanding existence;
 
he doesn’t hear me now, doesn’t see me anymore;
I wove my love into the air between us,
into a noose-wish, a cold death necklace,
but, I couldn’t live in the crashing planets,
the sailing dimensions that brush by each other
on the cusp of flesh and sex,
on the edge of terror,
the shade clawing through my lungs,
a berserker mass, a holy ghost hurricane
of fear and longing and throes;
 
I said too much, more than he could swallow;
the logic was not faulty;
 
then fate crept up from his neck,
took root in his brain,
snuggled itself deep into the grey,
just looks at me sometimes
from behind its window’d prison,
sees everything in shadows and corners,
hopelessly skewed, cleverly entranced;
and it is a parasite, claimed him fully,
he doesn’t even know
that he makes no decisions anymore
that his free-ride slave driver will not allow;
 
and I just sleep in the mumbling,
nestled in the beat of the syllables
that drag themselves in circles around my feet,
the begging, the sorrow, the need
that I can never release,
the chains that climb my throat
and come out caked in regret and marrow,
that mangle my insides and murder all my babies,
all the little sparks of wonder that sprouted,
just clots of what could have been,
 
and I just keep speaking it all away,
the secrets are vapour;
 
I speak to the atoms, to the cells,
I speak to the darkness, to the light,
I speak to the magic, to the fever,
I speak to my blood,
I speak to my blood


.

I eat bullets for breakfast

and his fingers are buried in my heart,
I’m dying all around them,
beating, choking; my blood-need running down his arms,
gathering in his elbows like little, shallow bodies;
like our limbs tangled in lust -  pounding thrusts, smothered cries;
I didn’t mean to get so much of me on him,
to slather him down in my weakness;
I didn’t mean to let so much of him in me,
to let him slide into my cells like an electrical charge;
I said I could be emotionless and I didn’t know I’d lied
until I looked at his face when he came;
he was rising above me, slamming in hard;
eyes shut tight, tension building in his hips,
every muscle straining, breath caught in his chest
and the force and the fire in every stroke was changing me;
the power in his thighs stole my tongue,
I could only lay there and die quietly;
I saw him then, when he swelled inside me,
stopped my blood right in the veins;
he came hard on the beginning of a godwind exhale
and the light there washed over me, brought me to the sky;
that’s when I knew, that’s when my soul exploded
into spider legs and sparrow wings, when my skin crawled
with the damnation this kind of knowledge brings,
that’s when I knew I’d lost;
that’s when I knew he’d be the death of me 

TRUE STORY.

TRUE STORY.

Because elephants
#100HappyDays

Because elephants
#100HappyDays

Tags: 100happydays

Once it hits your lips, it’s so good!
#100HappyDays #summersummersummertime #bayoudreams #shiner #ryesandshine #lazymagnolia
#BEER #MondayFunday

Once it hits your lips, it’s so good!
#100HappyDays #summersummersummertime #bayoudreams #shiner #ryesandshine #lazymagnolia
#BEER #MondayFunday

Boston Shake, Bitches! 
Babygirl treated us to ice cream <3
#100HappyDays #HappydayNo2part2 #summersummersummertime #SundaeSunday #bayoudreams

Boston Shake, Bitches!
Babygirl treated us to ice cream <3
#100HappyDays #HappydayNo2part2 #summersummersummertime #SundaeSunday #bayoudreams

#RiverboatWhite wine and the final episodes of #Fringe on a rainy Saturday evening

#100HappyDays #HappyDay#2 #summersummersummertime #bayoudreams  #fuckyeahscience #dammitpeter-pacey

#RiverboatWhite wine and the final episodes of #Fringe on a rainy Saturday evening

#100HappyDays #HappyDay#2 #summersummersummertime #bayoudreams #fuckyeahscience #dammitpeter-pacey