does this happen with lesbians? I’m thinking I should switch teams. (via cephalopoet)
ding: the lesson is, don’t bed readers, just other writers.
I promise, I have no intention of fucking the female poets I read. They are like my sisters. Whether I am attracted to them or not, I could not make love to them. …But I do like and agree with your post for the most part. I’m not blind. I see that it’s such a common thing for a man to lose interest, as much as it boggles my mind and breaks my heart…
I woke up from a dream this morning where I was walking through downtown disney (Anaheim) and all the lights were red. It was night time, and Postmortem by Slayer was playing on all the speakers. It wasn’t a nightmare. No one was dying or even hurt or anything, they were just playing Slayer was all, and all the lights were red. It was awesome. But right when it was supposed to start playing Raining Blood, I woke up. A fucking fly buzzing in my face woke me up…
Built myself a pull up bar. Been wanting one for awhile, and now I have one. Have a lovely day!
With every bottle I’d ever drank,
I was always disappointed that I
was never able to sweat out
the pretty colors that
the athletes in the commercials would.
Fuck you gatorade!
I’m done with your lies.
I’m not crawling back to you anymore!
I have self respect!
Unless you get mixed with vodka…
I might lower my standards for that…
I will, I’ll absolutely lower my standards again.
I always come back to you.
You’re a bitch.
You’re a dumb bitch gatorade and you play dirty but fuck
I just can’t quit you.
desperately seeking to find…
pulsing in my mind…
If only I could just…
I turn the light on,
I turn them all on,
the frantic search continues.
Where is my…
It has to be here…
It must be somewhere…
I open the first drawer,
Third drawer, alas,
tools and supplies!
I brush aside erasers,
cast paperclips out the window,
but the drawer is stuck!
I need this lead sharpened.
I shove my hand in,
feel with a shaking palm
I smile as I clutch the boxy Item I’m about to
shove my broken pencil into!
I yank my arm out, busting my desk drawer,
(ecstatic at the thought of momentarily
sketching the best fucking sketch I’ve ever sketched)
and with a bloody and splintered wrist,
a heaving chest,
a sweaty brow over gleaming eyes
did I hold in my trembling hand not a pencil sharpener,
but a fucking box of condoms…
Disappointment on two accounts.
Delicious peach salsa. Lagunitas imperial stout, and all my books. Ive got to get reading…
I would put all my hard earned money into tracking down rapists and human traffickers across the world to beat them until the blood from my own knuckles stained their skin.
It’s only when you desire something,
or someone, rather,
does time pass like ice melting at zero degree temperatures.
Desire shouldn’t be something you’d feel bad about,
yet I feel something that is other than good.
"Why am I fucking this up,
and who am I kidding?”
Those are the lies I am used to,
but I’m past that,
I’m better than that.
I’m a human,
a wonderful person
with a beautiful heart.
I love genuinely,
I give freely,
I sin but
I am good.
But as of right now,
I have desires,
so I venture down now,
to the darker depths of my own heart.
Tequila - the ex girlfriend you’d find me in bed with after the break up
my Friday night,
your shitty Sunday night I’m assuming.
you probably work tomorrow,
I looked forward to camping.
To driving and to camping.
To driving and to drinking and to sitting in front of a fire and
on my couch,
in this pair of unwashed jeans,
writing about how I didn’t go camping,
well, is quite alright.
Ale has become my motive,
and I’m passed the halfway point
of such a tall, tall bottle,
and yet I am no less in love with the young lady I’ve thought of all day.
Use the booze,
let me dream a good dream.
Perhaps I wont win you.
I do give a shit about that.
Not all the shits I possess,
but one very good shit, yes.
You’ve got an amazing heart.
Don’t care that you smoke,
that you sling pies for a living,
that you’re younger than me,
I just like that heart,
that simple show of affection you
You’re also very attractive, and no,
I don’t think your feet are weird.
I wont give up on this,
and I wont quit sending you my smile.
The kindness I share,
is because I am kind.
is because you’re undeniably attractive,
is because your voice is soothing,
is because I could get lost deeper in your eyes
than I could the Ardennes.
Take my hand and
let in the words falling from my lips,
dying like leaves from autumn branches.
There will only be so many.
I could smile,
and kiss you,
and say to you goodnight,
without a cold feeling of sorrow or remorse.
I could smile,
and kiss you,
and say to you good morning,
feeling your heartbeat,
and the warmth of your skin resonating against my own.
I could smile and kiss you,
and I could repeat this,
over and over,
again and again,
just accepting how lucky
how blessed I’d be
with your hand under mine.
How lucky I’d be yes,
with you not in front of
or in back of
but with you my darling,
with you by my side.