Just a student of English Literature, sharing her thoughts online because it seems more sane than talking to herself, even though it is essentially the same.
To view all my writing, search tag 'maydreaming'.
Daammnnn.
Past, Secrets and Malice…http://psychofactz.tumblr.com/
Mine is Maniac, Fool and Suicide :O
(Source: hyenabonz)
Kids :’)
(Source: beautiful-ugly-duckling)
(Source: kristenmarie44)
Hemingway, Twain, Plath and Wilde
(Source: puttingmannersonafeminist)
Staff Note: This is absolutely wonderful.
I chased you away with devotion scribbled along the lines of folded-paper because you couldn’t follow the traces or curves of my handwriting without interference from the bright blotches of spilled wine (and
spilled blood.) You found no concrete promises hidden behind poetic verses, and with a tongue saturated in cynicism, you mumbled how it was “all the same”, the same as if I had held out your wrists and sliced them myself, the same practice of whispering “I love you” to a black sky. I had red eyes and you had red cheeks and we were both frostbitten by the cold, we were both fearful of the storm that pressed up against the glass and moaned hollow cries of sorrow like the distant echoes of lonely wolves.(You did not forgive me.)
————
You chased after sunset destinations in order to get to the end of each day, you wanted to mourn the dying afternoon with your camera lens so that you could capture the fiery shades of scarlet, just like the hair of the porcelain women that you would paint with colored oils. It became apparent that I was not sullen enough for you to sculpt, my lips were not of a decaying grey, and you tried to mold me, but I resisted your artist’s touch each and every time, I resisted the truth even when both of our lives depended on it. You couldn’t understand why I stuck by your side, and neither could I.
Neither could I.
(I did not apologize.)
You preferred to walk alone and I would have walked with you, I would have been the footprints grazing the sides of yours but I had an awful habit of running far, far away and so it was that I moved faster than the beating of my own heart.