| This is fucking shit. |
and she has propaganda.
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aftershockA few weeks ago I met a girl who'd cut every inch of skin on her arms,aftershock
except for the blank spots where her tattoos were. And it kinda broke my heart I think,"After this, there's nothing more they can do to me." (I'm afraid it becomes more true every day).
I do not go on the highway much now, except when another volunteer drives me home There is a sea of lights up that high, and I watch them and wait for the tidal wave. (What a beautiful lie).
Stepping over the ashes and wreckage, you think,"the fire's done; the disaster's over." But the grey ash coats your lungs
by ~109-0415
guardian angelsIt was near the end of the party (After someone had taken away your banana costume, after my pink dress began shedding sparkles, after Jesus called me a bitch during our argument about sanitizing the hookah, and long after the man whose name starts with an R molested me). Our arms were crossed and I leaned against the doorframe while you explained the car's exceptionality and the adventures you and your friends had taken in it Do you think there are guardian angels? you asked. Because sometimes you thought there must be more than luck saving you from your dangerous escapades. & I thought and I thoughtguardian angels
by ~109-0415
777broken bird curled up catatonic in his arms bones made of brittle bus passes and torn business cards (and frozen tears, and old stories, and tired lives—) his face buried in her fading hair, anxiously looking for a response because this is what they call last chances777
town of luck, town of dice and neon lights, hold me in your favor tonight somebody must succeed out of all those ruined lives, right?
by ~109-0415
dehydrationin my dreams I purposefully avoid you. same in real life.dehydration
In my dreams I wear all-white clothes and stockings too because in real life I live in a desert city where the temperature exceeds 100° Fahrenheit day after day after day after day for three months. long sleeve blouses and skirts ward off the sun. I can't drive. And the asphalt and car exhaust, dear God-
I fancy myself an extreme adventurer And daredreamers don't cry because that wastes water. [But I'm really a scummy charcoal child Pretending she's forgotten horror.] &nbs
by ~109-0415
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