am i all that you ever wanted? or has it been so long that you’ve forgotten? it seems i’m talking to an automatic voice message and listening to these dial tones while i pray for you to pick up the phone, but you’re too busy filling your lungs with nicotine while a girl gives you head

you’re so pathetic, preying on innocent girls like it’s a bloodsport. you have skeletons in your closet, but you swear they don’t belong to you.

you hide your feelings like a corpse you want to get rid of, but baby, the stain remains.

talk to me nice, darling. say those sweet words and i’ll swoon and get into your bed again, before you leave me bare in a hotel room and i have to call my mom again at 4am

endless vicious cycles of lust and hopeless wishes, i learned to accept the fact that you will never ******* change no matter how many times you say you will

and oh, how the tables have turned

you’re the one listening to those **** dial tones now.

i always end up being amused when people compare themselves to the darkest night and the blinding white like the marble tabletops and the ******* you snort.

i’m more of a mediocre mustard yellow and royal blue, maroon and grey. i can’t live life in extremes even if i ******* tried. i’ve learned that.

so i brew me up some hot nostalgia and let it sink into my pores, and let it create tension in my heartstrings but just not strong enough to rip them apart. it’s almost ****** up if i say it like that. i’m in a constant state of being ripped apart but not quite, i’m always half way there. i’m not worth anything to the point where the people who want to break me, can’t even do it fully.

i’m an almost human, an almost adult, almost desirable, and almost dead.
i’m drowning in the almosts, and it’s snuffing out my spark. it’s almost pathetic. i’m just fixating on everyone that neglected me.

and i’m rambling, i like rambling
i also like christian anthony
but i can’t do him.
at this point
how do you free yourself from the almosts?
or do you let them soak through your decaying skin? tell me.

choke down the cherry cola cough drops into your throat with diluted acid from the saturn’s rings she adorned you with. they told her she had venus’ kiss in her irises, and you have the cosmos running through your moon dust veins.

let the calories in the stardust graze your melted coarse organs as you choke on your fester words.

she spun you into the withering web of burning rose petals and expired prescriptions.

oh god, how you thought you were the hurricane but look at how she made your insides into a liquid mess and fed them to your demons.

i really am struggling with my writing and inspiration. please give me ideas of what to write about. it can be anything.

my love, how long have you made me
taste the bittersweet darkness that i can no longer
fathom the light?

my heart pumps red wine
and you're getting intoxicated and drunk off my love
with that white dust sprinkled on your nose

"all of the gods have to taste the
galaxy too, my sweet persephone.
have a taste."

i ask myself how many times
i've whispered and moaned your name
in the past hour, and how many times
i've begged you not to leave me empty
and hollow again.

give me something to hold on to
stuff me with the bittersweet tragedies of your
sins and leave me to fend for myself while i
deal with your broken baggage

you're painting constellations
between my ******* with acrylic paints
as if it's your canvas and something to please
your ****** fantasies.

shoving cherries into your mouth
so you can taste me without touching my anatomy
with your devilish hands

you're overdosing on the galaxy
and night terrors from the girls
you've ripped the soul out of

and i'm afraid
i'm next.

mayhem is born when
you speak in phrases of the
seven deadly sins

oh my killer hades, let me fill you up with the wine from the holy grail!

maybe then you'll finally find religion in my arms
like i do when i'm in bed with you

your serpentine tongue
licks the sun from my ivory skin
singing songs of destruction as
you make my guts spill and dance for you

you play with the strings of my flimsy veins
and throw me around like marionette.
i cannot breathe, you've ****** the air out
of my sweet lungs because you're such a thief

burn me down to the ground, mi amor
play with my ashes and sprinkle them on every
single one of your celestial beings' graves.

i can’t pretend to not be utterly destroyed and enchanted at the same time by you. my chest physically aches and is sore whenever i get the urge to hold you close and you’re not here. it’s humorous. because i can’t imagine myself with anyone else, and i don’t want to be with anyone else, but you can make a list of the girls you’d give your heart to. none of them are me.