My Untouchable Face

The effortless nature of the unreliable narrator

~ Wednesday, February 22 ~

In the cold eye of the lake
light dissolves around the trees,
a boy, free as a fish, dives
dreaming of the sea.

Tags: poetry spilled ink writing
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Drops

Every vein beating through me,
Begs me to turn away.
They are empty and weak,
Thirsty, and afraid i’ll leak again.

But bleeding is all I know how to do these days.
Red words on paper
Red scars...

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Dirty Talk

lifeencoded:

I want to fuck you violently, she whispered in his ear.

He was all nerves now.

Her hand clawed at his thigh. She leaned closer, nipping at his ear. I want to chew on...

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Post via justanothertrampofhearts

You remember when you were young and you’d get your jacket caught on a chain link fence? This is kind of like that, only instead of a needle and thread you use a bottle of gin for your suture.

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