Text 26 Aug 3 notes I’ve Become So Fearful of the Past and Future; It’s Hard to Hold Onto Dreams When They’re Willing To Go Places I Am Not

I see deer in my horizons and they’re running away

Text 20 Aug 3 notes I’ll Survive

How are you is a cry for help

Link 18 Aug 3 notes I'll Forget You»

summerswithoutwar:

This is how I’ll forget you

I’ll forget you
In scars and pissed out whiskey fires
In DXM, DPH, weed and robo-trips
In what-ifs, whens, never, oh wells and who fucking cares
In I love yous and I hate me’s
In I hate yous and I love me’s
In sad guitar songs and even sadder banjo twangs
In…
Link 18 Aug 3 notes Loneliness Is»

summerswithoutwar:

The loneliness is crippling
Like watching
A little boy’s bear;
His nightmare protector
Getting taken away by someone
He’s deemed safe and
Trustworthy
Like an old dog
Who’s grown to trust his owner for
15 plus years
When he suddenly gets beat
With a sledge hammer
It’s that feeling of…

Text 17 Aug 2 notes Deforestation Has Killed Thousands of Animals and Has Left Just As Many Memories of Broken Hearts

I’m hiding behind the initials we carved on the picnic table, behind rain washed grains of white pine trees because it’s easier than admitting I fucked up

Text 17 Aug 4 notes Untitled

End of summer bummers got me feeling sentimental and all emotional like

Change in the leaves and friends that do so got me wondering if I’m worth the weather I’m under

If these clouds will ever actually rain to reveal a rainbow, show a thunder cloud or something that I need, I’m not sure

Late mornings and earlier nights got me feeling like I should be doing something with my life, counting memories as my fingers intertwine with thin strands of your hazel hair or counting stars on the backs of mountains as we hold hands pretending we’re something bigger

Text 17 Aug 1 note "The Glaciers Have Made Giant Lakes, Mountains Out of Grassy Plains, Have Turned Boulders To Gravel

It’s hard to be your rock when I’m just a pebble myself

Text 6 Jul 2 notes Oceans

I started cutting again the night we first had sex, an hour or two after you left soaking wet, dripping beads of a new beginning, I was your first if you don’t count your uncle when you were younger. I don’t think we did but the hazel veil that covered your green eyes may have hid a different answer.

An hour er two after your violet red lips dug into my flesh leaving trace amounts of mint scented saliva I made the first cut with a broken razor I found lying on the floor next to the bathtub. The razor ripped and tore through my flesh as opposed to making a clean cut, leaving small flecks of skin to dangle dangerously over a jagged ravine, I felt like if you saw it you could relate and put some deep meaning behind it. I remember how you showered for almost an hour before hand, I listened carefully as you used every bit of body wash and bar of soap you could get your hands on in an attempt to wash more than just dirt and grease of your skin; you wanted every inch of your body to be pure, white and virgin for me. You spent almost 30 minutes brushing your teeth, flossing and swishing around mouthwash, I remember how you apologized profusely saying how hated to keep me waiting but I didn’t mind, I smiled, telling you to take your time.

You came out of the bathroom, naked, vulnerable and slightly awkward, walking to the bed I told you how beautiful the waves of your skin looked crashing against twin peaks of green, breaking up a peach coloured ocean and providing some sort of vantage point that would allow you to gaze across the entire ocean, the sky, it’s various constellations and even half the world if the weather was right. The waves of your finger tips graced the bed, leaning elegantly towards me you arched your back. I placed my hand over soft velvety flesh, I clenched my teeth to avoid letting out a gutless roar, the razor had become increasingly dull and caked with blood. I was slipping in and out of consciousness and I couldn’t stop. Your body beat in rhythm with mine, sweat poured from our skin bathing us in lustful decadence. The soft murmur of your voice grew into a thunderous moan, my body was slowly being encompassed by an ocean you could not control and one I could not swim in. I couldn’t count, I dared not think about the damage I had done, I flailed through an ocean trying desperately to keep my head above the water, trying desperately to grasp one more breath of air for my burning lungs and racing heart. The purity had all but vanished, it was a storm of deathly moans and throaty grunts, our pace increased as we raced towards the end. I looked up from below at two green peaks, I noticed how magnificent they were, oh how I wished to climb up to them, to see and all they have seen. With a high pitched scream violence tore it’s way out, the ocean tides rose to enormous heights, the white tips came crashing down relentlessly in a sea of mixed colour. I no longer could see green peaks, I could no longer feel purity as it grasped at my sides, pulling me in and under.

Text 25 Jun 1 note Youth Knight Part 1

I haven’t and won’t be writing as much in the coming future, what I do post will more than likely be edits/rewrites of previous things I’ve written, that being said here’s part 1 of a short story 

I’ll remember that night fondly as it drifts, rolls and crashes through my memory. Small, minute details seemingly meaningless transform, are added and taken away to fit the story, changing it entirely. We weren’t just 2 kids on a pier dancing frivolously under an absent moon, we were lightyear lovers who for an entire night, for a split second were frozen and free from our vicarious, tumultuous  lifestyles. It started out as an idea, as all grand and eventually life altering ideas do ” what if we..” ” we should..”, formed and molded slowly around devil coloured flames that spoke ashes; the tales of last summer and it’s moth eaten grandeur. Our bodies slowly dug themselves deeper into the flesh of the other, searching for comfort, a certain warmth that the fire and flecks of the past couldn’t offer. Whispering into our ears, my lips gently touched yours returning the favour, fueling the idea, the romanticism, of a simple word whose complexity has left us in a cage just out of reach; “freedom”. Hearts began to pound like they did a year ago; the ferocity with which we stormed the Escanaba streets, torching every inch of cement, hailing death while simultaneously birthing life to every centimeter our tactile fingers touched. I pulled you in closer, with one cohesive inhale our feet took fly.

Text 8 Jun 1 note Emotional instablility

I’m an asshole whose emotional instability 
Got the best of him

So I’ll play victim to a party of one
Pitying myself while trying to convince
Me  

That I wasn’t wrong in the first place
I thought I’d let you know 
The only thing running through my head 
Is the look of disappointment on your face
It’s been a day 
I’m pathetic and I’m the embarrassment 
My poetry’s amateur bullshit and I’ll walk away
Acting like this was never meant
Because you’re better off if I remain your friend
But only in the past tense


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