all i want in this life is to wake up in the middle of the night to find myself wrapped around you, like two snakes that are hibernating (my bruised kneecaps against the perfect hinge of your legs, my chest cradling the brick in the small of your back) and make sleepy love. i want to wake up in the midst of a blizzard, 4 a.m coming down, and ask you (softly) if you are awake and receive only kisses as an answer. i wrote this for you.

My heart has only ever led me in whiskey-stained circles and my dreams have only ever guided me to the death of my siblings or some nameless heartache and this is why i never tell people to follow their dreams or listen to their heart.

There is a sadness in me like 200 empty swingsets

God bless your fingers that hum like railway-men, and say “amen” and “hallelujah” across my flesh like church-goers. your hands, so graceful, hold ten of the most tender explorers ten of the most gentle ghosts ten needles in my left ventricle ten questions at the end of ten knuckle sentences. the first time, the accidental time, you spoke in a voice that finally called me back. the second time, with intent and a little dishonesty, our voices whispered, they did cartwheels across sheets that sighed like springtime. you swallow my sadness just like a necklace: one pearl at a time

in spite of all the ill you keep inside you like extra rows of teeth, never will your warm thin hands be anything other to me than home. and the sea-blue of your eyes stumbles into me after crying over a shallow ugly mess i created for myself. everything is holding its breath inside me and here you are, kissing the track marks on my lips, where our demons met for a playdate

Sometimes he finds me:

A lost girl with a chip on my shoulder, anxieties in my fists, and tangles in my hair. and he is still good to me. he still touches the cracks in my skin like they’ve healed already he still wraps his arms around a body that has broken and no longer bends, he still sighs into my mouth he still tastes like my name he still goes looking for me even where i can’t be found. Mom says “he will leave you” Dad keeps guns in the closet, knives in the drawer next to the stove. the idea that there is blood in me that he may never see makes me need to sleep.

You are making me crazy. you are making me want to touch your hand. making me want to save you. making me want to keep you. so when people stare at me 15 years from here and from now they’ll say, “with scars like that, who’s ever gonna love her?” i’ll think to myself, “I don’t even feel them anymore.”

Everyone tells a story without talking and his heart sounds louder than any war drum; closer in rhythm to the sea than anything else. he loves me with the lights on the windows open the curtains drawn How beautiful and peaceful and natural and manageable life seems with two of the right arms wrapped around you

HHHHI i want to kiss you duh hello are you there thank you i am here my stomach hurts can i kiss you now i miss you already u


Write things on my skin in the darkness of your room tell me your secrets

i will spit on you and all the things you hold dear including money

Occasionally, i am rainsoaked at the thought of you and i, there

i want to kiss you sorry my handwriting sucks can i kiss you now?

my heart: thunderous it’s 11:11 i make fists only.

it’s never too rough for the ghoul and the gutter because we have time.

When you look at me with all that rot in your mouth, my bones just open.

thank u lidl babies :+)
i would like to thank a certain ghoul who has nice eyes and makes me unafraid, and also you thank you for reading this i hope you get what you want for your birthday i like your socks and i think you’re good at lots of things i’m a garbage idiot loserbaby but i hope this made u smile

♡ @planetgaytard actualhobo.tumblr.com ♡