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space money

@peachmart / peachmart.tumblr.com

jol | 18 | jersey cool kids cant die
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alinaskeys

Tango Akali and Tango Evelynn :)

(Drawn for my friend’s bday)

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wildfairy
he was the first boy that made you brave enough to openly want something. you bloomed like chrysanthemums under his hands. spun yourself gold. hung the sun from your tonsils. every time you opened your mouth, you wrote him into light. told him, i don’t see the dark, i only hear the birds. made him the muse, turned yourself martyr. loved him until your face turned blue. until your spine  became wishbone. your body turned meadow. grew in the midst of a frost. shook off the ice crystals and opened your mouth. showed him the sun. reminded him of the songbirds. promised to keep being the light if he promised not to swallow the dark.

CHRYSANTHEMUMS, angelea l. (via wildfairy)

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the boys are puzzle boxes for you to glide your hands over smooth wood grain hunting for the places where it will give how many steps to tear open the boy? 14 - 23 - 46 ? who cares as long as you finish it pull this piece, push that (how far can you push them?) until you find the lever or the key and click flick, turn, whatever it takes to open their secrets flood like wasps from their mouths they are lucid and you are insatiable you deserve this, what youve worked so hard for a study of vulnerability in which you reclaim the power that was ripped from you so long ago when he splintered you you are the shepherd and savior, father forgive me please they bow towards you like sad sunflowers desperate for something they're childish tongues cannot articulate they are searching for something bigger, for what you feel in your chest when you stand in the silver highway sliver of moon on the water but that feeling is yours and yours and yours they cannot find it in the shallow touch of your hands or lips but oh, they can try and while distracted by their indescribable hunger you are climbing through the back window moon slicing through glass you are night are darkness are silent you are thief slipping past their bed to shuffle through closet boxed memories of hurt and answers to the question: why are you like this?

i know what he thinks he is, j.d

#the void#words#poems#poetry#writing#rough draft#jol.txt
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angelfairy-deactivated20180821

*collapses on my king sized canopy bed with lavender satin sheets and goose down pillows in a baby pink silk robe holding an empty (but once full) swarovski crystal wine glass, throwing a maincured hand loosely over my eyes* im in love

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piss3000
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roxilalonde

hey hey hey you remember ratatouille? that movie was fuckin wild. in the first 20m a woman points a shotgun at the protagonist and tries to shoot him multiple times, brings down the roof of her own house, and subsequently gasses it. then the rat goes to paris and meets the bastard son of a dead chef and almost dies. again. several times. many times! almost gets locked in an oven. and then drowned. then some shit happens and he controls the bastard son by pulling on his hair. also the bastard chef gets drunk at least once. it’s explicit too like the scheming sous chef brings this 18 y/o or whatever into his office and gets him drunk because he wants the kid to admit that he’s a successful chef because of a tiny hair-pulling rat puppeteer who lives in his hat. and all throughout it the rat is grappling with the ethical conflict of whether stealing is right, and how to reconcile the wasted excesses of capitalism with his belief in private property and self-earned worth, especially when he comes from an impoverished background where stealing was necessary. and the underlying motif is how art isn’t an exclusive club, and how making art accessible to everyone is critical to the expansion and success of art itself, and the importance of honesty in relationships. also the human protagonist’s name is linguini

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