I like that when I kiss you, it tastes like mint and cigarette smoke.

"A soft woman
is simply a wolf
caught in meditation."
Pavana

soft teeth
breathe me
small knees
leaning against you

(Your Friend - Bangs)

Truth is, I don’t want your soft. Your tender. Your merry-go-round type love with all the same scenery. I want to be opened up. Your fingernails at my naval. Your teeth on my throat. On the throb of my pulse. I want you starving. Want you on your last legs. Want you hungry for blood. It’s not pretty. It’s not the kind of thing you tell your friends about. It’s the kind of thing that, once over, you come back normal, as if awakening from a dream in which you have been spoon-fed your every shameful desire. Why? You ask why. You ask why I need this from you, why your mouth-on-mouth, hips-meet-hips is not enough. There is no clear answer. I tell you I want to jump off cliffs with you. I want to find proof of other inhabitable planets. I want to know I’m really here. These are not answers; these are my poor attempts at explanation. These are the closest I can get to verbalizing the need. The thing that beats its fists inside me. That roars. That spits. That makes idle threats. The closest I can get:

I want to forget we are human. And that it is not enough.

my roommates aren’t home right now, so naturally I’m walking around my house at 2 am in my underwear while stoned, eating applesauce, and blaring kanye west.

“Isn’t it time to acknowledge the ugly side? I’ve grown quite weary of the spunky heroines, brave rape victims, soul-searching fashionistas that stock so many books. I particularly mourn the lack of female villains — good, potent female villains. Not ill-tempered women who scheme about landing good men and better shoes (as if we had nothing more interesting to war over), not chilly WASP mothers (emotionally distant isn’t necessarily evil), not soapy vixens (merely bitchy doesn’t qualify either). I’m talking violent, wicked women. Scary women. Don’t tell me you don’t know some. The point is, women have spent so many years girl-powering ourselves — to the point of almost parodic encouragement — we’ve left no room to acknowledge our dark side. Dark sides are important. They should be nurtured like nasty black orchids.”

— Gillian Flynn

Union
Deptford Goth

As I’m looking, falling, lonely -
something’s coming and I can’t see what it is..
maybe if you’ve got someone,
you should let me know.

(Deptford Goth - Union)

A message from Anonymous
You should most definitely take underwear pictures. ❤️

whoa, anon. I am very flattered, but in the words of our lord and savior emma watson, “the less you reveal, the more people can wonder.” I think I’ll leave things to the imagination. <3

"But I also knew that one day, I would grow up. One day, I would be twenty, or thirty, or forty, even fifty and sixty and seventy and eighty and maybe even one hundred years old. And all those years were mine, they belonged to nobody but me. So even if I was unhappy now, it could all change tomorrow. Maybe I didn’t even need to jump off the cliff to experience that kind of freedom. Maybe the fact that I knew such a freedom existed in the world meant that I could someday find it."
 Augusten Burroughs, A Wolf at the Table

“I get reckless when I want to
be touched. I call and hang up.
I walk into the middle of the street.
I lie. I dangle my phone out of the
second story window, pretend
I’m saving your life.

The things that I want are shameful.
The things that I want are
meant for spectacular bodies
sprawled out in big beds,
or slammed up against a wall.
All I’ve got is a couch and a
crooked mouth that wants to
bruise your neck, so I’ll pretend
it’s enough to get you to
come home with me.

So what if I’m not spectacular?
I can still have the dream
of you with your hands all over me,
unashamed and hungry, if I want it.

Look, just come over.
Just go with me here,
for a second.
I know you don’t love me.
I know this, but pretend.
Pretend for a while.
I don’t care if I’m special,
as long as you fuck me like I am.”

Caitlyn Siehl, Spectacular Bodies

6:33am, 6:33pm.

I’ve been dreaming lately.