"I am growing out my hair to teach myself
patience. I am going to cut it to teach
myself loss. On my best days I still don’t
always get out of bed. New York, we have
to stop meeting like this. I would have
texted you sooner but cabs at three a.m.
But boys who don’t mind if I don’t always
smile like I mean it. But the rain and I
don’t always have an umbrella. Everything
is an excuse, so who are we kidding? If you
write me a poem, I’ll probably make out
with you. No, I am not drunk. I just want to
see your naked elbows. I just want to
dye my hair an unacceptable color and
become a totally different person."

Kristina Haynes, “Some Mornings, I Miss You” (via fleurishes)

(via jesuisuneamesolitaire)

i can’t really explain myself-

my head is pounding

I think I’ll soak instead

this achey baked out head

i want anything but to be taken seriously 

closets are for clothes, not bros

see ya later, instigator (I’m sorry)

this girl is dum

things she doesn’t know: respect

is a two-way road, to have a friend

you have to be a friend, don’t

blame your coworkers for stealing

your pocket change (especially

over e-mail) and don’t blame 

your troubles on your friends

because they’re not going to want to be your friends anymore.

The Queen

The Queen

Den Boy

In double helix sheets I find

your musk hidden in milkweed

I remember the heaviness of it all:

your arm, strapped me to the bed

like you were, yesterday, mental ward

nurse found overalls full of fruit

roll-up wrappers and crushed cigarettes.

In my dreams you are camera shy

sliding down steep snow-covered

ravines, white-boy dreads full

of ice-melt, bleach. Eyelashes

slowly parting in the cold.

You had: fake blood real fox tail

I had: a kiss for your inkstained skin

costume ideas:

beetlejuice

calypso

fanta girls

jessica rabbit

sally

It’s been over a month

of trying to pull you off my sole like forgotten gum

stuck there, in the grooves, but some

of you stuck and I greet this pain that I’ve met before;

I was seventeen once, we all were

It’s come to the point that my desire to sleep with someone is interfering with actually sleeping with someone.

I’ve been sabotaging myself, acting crazy, walking out on people, and being in a generally shitty and intolerant mood.

I’ve been scaring them off.

No ones sending me messages anymore and the pool doesn’t open until 3:30, except on Saturday.

I caught myself thinking about the 13 hour bus ride today. Or was it 15 hours? I wish, I wish, I wish.

I miss new Orleans but I don’t miss the people there that I have messy relationships with. I have to lie to my boyfriend about how I’m not getting laid, because if I tell him I’m not getting laid he’ll think its because I miss him. Which I do, but that’s not why I’m not getting laid. And my friend’s white trash boyfriend is cheating on her and I want to punch him out. 

either im th or im gonna have to start making art like this

either im th or im gonna have to start making art like this

(via uglyskank-withfriends)