by any other name would smell as sickly

sweet <like a rose blooming>

bloom for me flower

rise for me, you thorn

prick prick prick

shed your petals

and wilt again

Your writing is so pompous.

Fuck you.

I don’t need to use big words to sound cool.

Fuck you.

If we use too many words, the meaning will be lost, and fall into the depths of ambiguity until we are forced to fish them from the deep sea of monotony and equivocality, and all that shit.

Your writing is so pompous.

Fuck you.

swordsforpens:

The day after New Years I sparked a cig,

The day after Valentines I cheated with passion,

The day after Mothers I ransacked her purse,

The day after Memorial I protested war,

The day after Fathers I cursed his name,

The day after Independence I spat on that flag,

The day after Veterans I called them pawns,

The day after Thanks I ferociously complained,

The day after Christmas I claimed atheist,

The day after New Years I repeated the same.  

I know what it’s like, to fear your own mind

                                  To be awake at night

                                        Screaming inside

   I know what it’s like, to be wanting death

                               To bring me happiness

                                        To end this mess.          

                                                                   But when I think of the future

                                                                   And the surprises it holds;

                                                                   Laughter erupts

                                                                   At what may unfold.

avant-que-joublie:

she’ll shove you
under the bus
so she can make
her safe getaway

(she’ll throw you
off of the bridge,
she’ll leave you
to the wolves)

Minutes pass

Days are rolling

Time is soaring

Above my head

I can see the past

The future; the present

I ask myself

What’s going on?

Answered with a sigh

I get no reply

Virginity, Kai Davis

Absolutely encapsulating.

O, how I loathe thee —

When you touch me, I feel the need to shower twice a day.

No longer can I sleep.

I wake up in the middle of the night, remembering your presence.

I must clothe my body with thick garments, so you are not tempted

To enter me.

You make me sick. You make my friends sick.

Why do others love you so?

Dizzy, weak and frail am I with you.

I can’t go outside. I only want to live, breathe, enjoy life.

But you have taken that all away from me.

O, how I loathe thee —

Winter.