Anonymous asked: Hey your "all apologies" story is pretty amazing bro

Why thank you (: I’ve been trying to work on writing specific scenes instead of general stories, but I can never think of names for my characters haha. Any ideas?

“Be mine,” he exhaled, frozen with his lips hovering directly over hers.

Fingers twitching from nerves - and most likely the drugs that stained their lungs and coated the walls in a thick, dusty layer - her hands found his face. Pressure squeezed the temples of her skull together tightly and wetness blotted her vision for a moment before she hastily cleared them away.

Be his?

There was something hollow in her chest that hurt in the most delightful way.

Hadn’t he said that the first time? Hadn’t he said he’d love her for half of an eternity, and then sheepishly said it wasn’t the right time for him? Hadn’t she done much worse to him in return?

Be his?

Her veins throbbed, breaking out from her too-tight flesh and exposing her circulatory system, her insecure red blood cells humming with doubts.

He’d seen every part of her in the pitch-black darkness while she crouched over him the other day. He’d had her, he’d already claimed her.

Be his?

She missed him. Oh, how she missed him. 

He seemed too far away, and suddenly all of the oxygen in the air dissapeared, leaving her lungs and repalcing it with rose water. She was drowning, dying, reborn.

Be his?

She rested her lips on his, softly. Resuscitated by the smoke he sent down her throat, she inhaled his scent - she would never forget how he tasted.

Be his?

She allowed herself to fall, sinking through touseled bedsheets and three stories of concrete, to the center of the Earth.

She always had been.

along with the final rays of the sunset while you

lie awake;

written on the ceiling

between the holes in the plaster.

Reflecting off the mirror that

pierces

a hollow image, soon to shatter.

Whispering through treetops and

bouncing off buildings,

waiting patiently at the corner,

an old friend you long ago

abandoned.

Shouting loudly in the street

in the halls

in the silence

in your head.

Carved over the faces of meaningless smiles and false promises.

Hiding in shadows and basking in sunlight,

fearful and fearless.

The ache in your joints,

hands

gripping your legs and dragging you through the cement

as you continue to trudge forward

somehow.

Tired, so tired,

but you can’t give up,

not today.

Quivering,

I will slowly work my way up off the floor,

tentatively at first,

and reassemble what precious atoms I have left.

ifyoucarryonthisway:

i wish someone would love me as much as kanye west loves kanye west

writingsforwinter:

light a cigarette

and watch someone

live through you.

tell yourself “i am”

and become what you hate.

spill milk on the floor,

cry over it,

and feel regret over turning into

a cliche.

forget meaning,

or else let it destroy you.

ruin someone

then listen to the sound of their gun

quivering on your floor.