something something something pussy
I love growing in summer, like the flowers, like the trees. Change within and blue skies overhead is a potent combination.
You had galaxies in your eyes. Flowers grew in bones once hollow. I filled the void in your heart with a fire that burned like the depths of hell and my name was embedded in your skin; my promise was engraved in your flesh. // I scraped it off with merciless words, and told you I wasn’t the one. Honey, home is in your mother’s arms.
She was like Monday’s rain on a busy day, with nothing but heartbreaking silence and arousing pity, a dry mascara for the wet eyes of lust. Moaning about regret and loneliness.
She was like Tuesday’s bouquet of flowers, with a clear sky and candy pieces on her teeth. Chatting about love like the songs on the radio.
She was like Wednesday’s box of chocolate after a long day, with red painting on the nails, and a seductive phone call. Talking about comedy and feminism.
She was like Thursday’s rumor and hard homework, mind games played on cannabis, falling in love and betraying friends.
She was like Friday’s champagne with strangers and laughs in vain. Mouth for the public and hands for dinero, like a song you just want to move your hips to.
She was like Saturday’s affair and a bad hangover. Like the lies written in the magazines, and like too much salt in your meal.
She was like Sunday’s breakfast with croissant and strawberry jam, like a girly dress in the fresh spring, blushing with smarter boys. Flirting about a good girl and math.
I miss you like I miss the ocean. I miss your arms wrapped tight around me like my favorite sweater. I miss your voice like the rain and thunder that helps me sleep at night. I miss your eyes like I miss the mountains that were just as gray and blue and misty. I miss the way you were mine.
misscadabby asked:
sarcolinedream-deactivated20181 answered:
the cerulean blue of the ocean. the white sands of home. reaching out for an uncertain tomorrow. eyes glistening in the sunlight. peach-coloured longing.
film about a group of men getting into shenanigans= “comedy”
film about a group of women getting into shenanigans= “chick flick”
film about a friendship between two men= “buddy flick”
film about a friendship between two women= “chick flick”
emotional film about father/son relationships= “drama”
emotional film about mother/daughter relationships= “chick flick”
film about a young man finding identity= “coming of age”
film about a young woman finding identity= “chick flick”
I used to wonder why
the sea was blue at a distance, yet green close up, and colourless in my hands.
A lot in life is learning to like blue.
Flowers grow back, even
After they are stepped on.So will I.
Bouquets of wilting
sit in vases on the tables
as though they’ve hanged themselves
over the glass edge.
The funeral isn’t over
until the flowers rot,
and the food rots,
and the people leave,
and the silence sets
as a pack of wild dogs
tearing us apart
under the cover of night.
sickbitterandcoveredinglitter
cosmicdeviant
Tumblr is literally a social experiment to see how long an extremely alienated user base will continue to use a declining social media platform that sporadically removes its features until rendering it obsolete
Remember this years-old post?
What the experiment demonstrates is that I will put up with all of that just to use a site that shows me posts that I asked for in chronological order.
