December 2011
45 posts
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I have nothing to say. Keep scrolling.
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I have more anonymous messages than I do...
: /
Girls are just as bad as dudes, I swear. Unless some of these messages ARE dudes.
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Quickie
dig down breathe slow as I… fuck it go harder… fuck it go deeper… get on top kiss me hard fuck me back
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I love giving but I’m bad a receiving truth...
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I want a girl...
Who can be a tough smartass all day, but still lay her head on my chest at night.
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Life’s not a bitch, life is a beautiful...
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swollenhearts:
“Let this be our little secret No one needs to know we’re feeling higher But I feel alive and I feel it in me Up and up I keep on climbing higher”
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Campfire
Warmth dances on your toes and the soles of your feet reminding you how cold it is in the space beyond your back Your head finds a new favorite spot to rest against my body and I swear you’re so close I can almost hear your thoughts You’re tired now, and too full to eat but you load your stick up once more as we slowly lose the battle to sleep with chocolate stains on our fingertips
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Anonymous asked: Okay hi. First let me say that your taste in music is aaamazing. Secondly... your writing is even better and you're absolutely right about classy girls turning into freaky girls so easily. And some of your. other words were certainly effective in getting this classy girl halfway to that freaky point. ;) Who is your muse? Lucky lady.
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Have you ever
stared at your own eyes in the mirror for so long that you became convinced you were looking at someone else? I realized I don’t even know what my own eyes look like. They say an iris is as unique to a person as their fingerprint, but I don’t know what my fingerprint looks like either. Would I even recognize myself if I were looking through someone else’s eyes? I never noticed...
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I love clumsy girls
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Entendre
I can speak to you in tongues and let you feel my innuendo… bite stanzas across your back leaving the lines in your skin while I scratch haikus up your thighs in seventeen set syllables… I can teach you what it’s like to be put on all metaphors and let a poet’s mouth practice tongue twisters, slipping you soliloqy after soliloquy after… soliloquy… I can teach...
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is it just me
tumeplais:
I have this issue..I cringe when I touch paper or jeans/pants after I’ve washed my hands or they’re dryish. I’m like a hand cream fiend. I don’t know. It’s the equivalent to the nails on the chalkboard thing for some people I guess.
She speaks the truth. I hate reading after I get out of the shower or pool. Dry fingertips abrade against the sheets of paper… my palms...
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Lessons
Fuck, do that once more. Let me feel your throat. Breathe through your nose. Learn to swallow with your mouth open.
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derriqueen:
what was I to you some thing undressed watching and waiting for your heart to grow up
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Word of advice...
Don’t ever let yourself feel like you won’t get hurt.
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Don’t leave my half a heart alone The...
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No. 2
Bite me like you’re mad Tear my skin up with your nails Fuck up my tattoos
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Leaves
Fall to your feet in brilliant oranges and yellow and crunch beneath your step. They’re suffocating… but we don’t say anything, because it’s beautiful.
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December
It’s here. Finally? Already? I hate the holiday, but enjoy the collective spirit everyone seems to share in the week leading up to Christmas. Everyone’s thoughts harmonize on the same subjects of family, giving and receiving, laughter. It’s like that buzz, oddly tuned in to the same frequency, can almost be felt like electricity in the air. Snow is on the ground and makes...