I am afraid
Of my self
Of my body pumping blood
and sugars,
and plaque.
I'm afraid of poison
in my mind
and under my fingernails
and between my teeth
of skin
e x p a n d e d
with grey fatty cells
and how they hold me back
and away
from the modern world
I need so bad
of muscle straining
and bunching
and ripping
and burning
and healing
but wilting away
and then again
And I'm afraid of my stomach
and all the creatures it harbors.
The butterflies that tickle me
So I have to laugh
then cry
and that strange monster
that growls
and claws
and waits until it's not wanted
to pounce
and of sickly green things
that inva
I like how stardust is always falling
to tangle our hair
and dust our freckles.
How on the darkest nights,
we could reach up
and have the stars splayed out under our fingertips.
I touch Andromeda with my pinky,
connect it to Beetleguese with my thumb,
and blow that great hunter a kiss
Warm, but far away
A tale of how big everything is.
A comfortable reminder of how impossible it would be
to end everything.
A small heartbreak at the thought of how small we are.
We could close our eyes,
and let the starshine light our faces
with cold blues and reds.
Feel our body hum with familiarity
(for we are made of starstuff)
And remind
Oh,
It hurts to reach up,
when I'm so far down,
But you're standing so tall above me,
while I lay on the ground,
I feel like an ant,
and you're the sky,
stretched above me forever,
so wide and so high.
I wish I were a cloud,
free to soar,
So I could become part of you,
forever more.
.
.
In this particular spot,
there's always rain,
but it's so hard to move,
So here I'll remain.
You are a ghost town
out in the wild west.
No, I mean where it really is still wild.
Isolated and rotting,
So far from society, nobody cares to check on you.
No cars pass you by, because there are no roads.
Just the endless mountains caging you in.
Your skin is the beauty of the place,
faded, peeling, wrinkling inside and out.
Your bones are walls and beams,
breaking and falling, turning to dust,
weathered down by things you never even try to resist.
Your mind is the papers that once told of rules and laws,
now torn, faded, and scattered.
(If I could, I would gather them all up and bind them together for you, but I'm afraid the
I am afraid
Of my self
Of my body pumping blood
and sugars,
and plaque.
I'm afraid of poison
in my mind
and under my fingernails
and between my teeth
of skin
e x p a n d e d
with grey fatty cells
and how they hold me back
and away
from the modern world
I need so bad
of muscle straining
and bunching
and ripping
and burning
and healing
but wilting away
and then again
And I'm afraid of my stomach
and all the creatures it harbors.
The butterflies that tickle me
So I have to laugh
then cry
and that strange monster
that growls
and claws
and waits until it's not wanted
to pounce
and of sickly green things
that inva
I like how stardust is always falling
to tangle our hair
and dust our freckles.
How on the darkest nights,
we could reach up
and have the stars splayed out under our fingertips.
I touch Andromeda with my pinky,
connect it to Beetleguese with my thumb,
and blow that great hunter a kiss
Warm, but far away
A tale of how big everything is.
A comfortable reminder of how impossible it would be
to end everything.
A small heartbreak at the thought of how small we are.
We could close our eyes,
and let the starshine light our faces
with cold blues and reds.
Feel our body hum with familiarity
(for we are made of starstuff)
And remind
Oh,
It hurts to reach up,
when I'm so far down,
But you're standing so tall above me,
while I lay on the ground,
I feel like an ant,
and you're the sky,
stretched above me forever,
so wide and so high.
I wish I were a cloud,
free to soar,
So I could become part of you,
forever more.
.
.
In this particular spot,
there's always rain,
but it's so hard to move,
So here I'll remain.
You are a ghost town
out in the wild west.
No, I mean where it really is still wild.
Isolated and rotting,
So far from society, nobody cares to check on you.
No cars pass you by, because there are no roads.
Just the endless mountains caging you in.
Your skin is the beauty of the place,
faded, peeling, wrinkling inside and out.
Your bones are walls and beams,
breaking and falling, turning to dust,
weathered down by things you never even try to resist.
Your mind is the papers that once told of rules and laws,
now torn, faded, and scattered.
(If I could, I would gather them all up and bind them together for you, but I'm afraid the
Current Residence: Florida Favourite genre of music: alternative, rock, creepy alien music. In that order. Favourite photographer: My mom ^^ Favourite style of art: The amazing kind Operating System: The OPerator. *cue mystery music* MP3 player of choice: Apples. Green apples. Cause red apples taste gross. Shell of choice: Any that have holes in them so I can string em. Wallpaper of choice: Magnetic Skin of choice: Newspaper. Wouldn't that be AWESOME? Favourite cartoon character: Zim. Personal Quote: Scientifically made by brain peoples!
I'm not doing my homework, why am I not doing my homework, I have so much to do, ahhhhh.
Also. I'm going to be a foreign exchange student next year maybe.
And besides an onslaught of bad grades and maybe depression (no mom I don't need to see anyone thank you) life is great. And difficult.
Also, I starting drawing again.
Hoorah.
Rules; Search each of the following at urbandictionary.com and copy and paste one of the definitions from the front page as your answer.
Your name: Virginia
is for lovers
Virginia is where the Dirty South begins, with the associated smoking hot southern women.
(I pretty much expected that exact definition :/)
Your age: 16
Legal age for fucking in the UK.
1. Woohoo! I'm 16! Now I can go and get my brains fucked even more by some guy.
2. Shit, now I can't fuck guys over threatening statutory rape after they fuck my brains out.
3. Woohoo! My girlfriend turned 16 today. Now I can fuck her brains out in front of the cop shop! and give the
You are now chatting with a random stranger! Say hi!
You: Welcome to my shop!
You: Feel free to look around!
Stranger: glad to be here.
Stranger: and what fine wares can be found here today?
You: Well, on this fine sales shelf we have some Big-Ass Swords, gold-dusted dog food, several albino foxes, and a time machine.
Stranger: I see.
Stranger: How much for the time machine?
You: 300 million dollars.
Stranger: Well... could I pay... after?
You: What's that?
You: No no no!
You: If you are short on funds though
You: I could rent it to you
You: for five bucks
Stranger: I see. And does this time machine go forwards in time, back in