In Bloom

Ask me anythingArchive

Maybe if I get my boobs blown up and my insides taken out you might love me.

It was merlot, that stained my lips,
In Leiu of your sweet kiss

tangled in a fire escape on 7th street, 

sifting between thoughts of 
money spent on lace and suicide

It was smoke that fondeled my fingertips,
to substitute your gentle touch

situtated in  darkness, starving, quiet
i am waiting for you to come home
so that i can turn away, and act as a nonpartisan
the silence is obtrusive now
i am growing to accept this

as delirium sets in, i am starving, un interested, and content.

red wine dripping between my thighs

warm la nights with a foreigner on repeat

i know i say a lot of things you dont care about ( i talk a lot of shit)

you dont pretend to care about

i wish you could pretend

or maybe i should just be better

indefinitely isolated

i am electrons above an ocean of clouds

ripples and waves

watching the sun

graciously take a bow over death valley

reminiscing of the ghost in pink

that corner room in san francisco

you dont seduce me

we just coexist

now its just sunken blue moons

subtle hints becoming less subtle

jazz moves faster

ambiguous enough

a needle and vinyl kissing on a table

the most surreal moment

I am delving TOO deep inside myself. 

"It’s amazing how words can do that, just shred your insides apart."

- Lauren Oliver, Delirium  (via larmoyante)

Maybe I’m. Magnet of bad energy. I suck it from them. So they can’t feel it. Like a cigarette. I’ll take it from them. Rescuer. I am your saint. And one day you will kill me. In your happiness. And my body will have served it’s purpose. Use me as you wish.

its okay

your a fucking idiot 

an idiot for trying

he never liked you anyways

he doesnt like your body

he doesnt even understand your mind, who would want to

your disgusting anyways

i dont even know why you tried

and now your both trapped

and here you are 

another  friday night with your friend jim 

trying to find something to complete you in the bottom of a whisky glass while everyone is out pretending not to exisist

why do you exsist, you dumb bitch

get used to accepting your fate

get used to your biggest fear

you will always be alone

no matter how many people are in the room with you

just go to bed

wake up 

act like nothing has happened


because you have to

because if you didnt … well really… would it matter?

here you are

typing to yourself

listening to cash  ask himself what he has become

look at you

an attempt, just an attempt, thats it

an attempt at life, at death, at drinking, at acting sociable, at dissapearing, at starting over, at becoming something

i am just an attempt

i am a fucking stranger

to everyone

to myself

i am cold

and i hope at night

i just stop

its okay

your easy to forget

crying doesnt make a difference anymroe

just shut up and put up

give up


approaching the stoop

she tastes of whiskey and menthol cigarettes

neither of which i prefer

but her lips are soft

a breezy kiss on on the cheek 

smoke from a cigarette caressing her fingers

as i should

the headlights of a 57  chevy

awaiting waiting

black ink poisoned with gold dripping down smooth vellum

scraps once 16 by 6 

disappearing into darkness

blending into loneliness


there’s no ink within me.

in my soul nor

in my blood.

my blood is


and my soul

is hollow,

as is my head,

and everything 

that comes out

is just pure