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" Don’t ever compliment me by insulting other women. That’s not a compliment, it’s a competition none of us agreed to. "

- "You’re not like other girls." Shut the fuck up. (via cutely-perverted)

(Source: escapedgoat)

"

I tried to bake a cake for you, in a drowning oven.
I could not get flames started;
I can feel the storms are coming.

I bought a thousand candles as we faded into stillness.
I burnt my beard on red wax kissing your name
in bloodied lipstick.

I tried to fall asleep that night when your eyelids closed
but the wind caught your wings as I was stuck,
walking the ocean floor below.

I held too tightly to your arm as you sailed out of sight.
I left the window open and waited for the tides
to share some soft moonlight.

I tried to wish for you, upon a star and fairy
but when my wish joined the the sky, I was alone,
so I swam back home silently.

I tried to hope for stardust as you dreamed of a man and a home
and not a shipwreck floating on the ocean floor below.

"

- Michel LazzaroWe all should try sometimes (via elzaro)

" The self-portrait: Swallowing glass chips to stay interesting. Keeping my insides cut so at least something comes out when I open my mouth. Spitting up blood. Calling it poetry. Calling it a performance. Calling it everything but what it is. Self-deprecation for the sake of humility. Self-dissolution to keep them guessing. Playing the same game until it stops becoming one. Turning tricks until they become habit. Here are some jokes I’ve made so many times they’ve lost their punchline: Texting late at night, check. Bleeding dirty thoughts and regret. Throwing up and forgetting the mess. Getting thin out of pure neglect. Check. Check. Check. This isn’t a way to grow up, but what else is there? Nice house? Nice car? Nice mouth? Nice girl? Wait. Didn’t you used to be such a nice girl? (I stole that line right out of the mouth of the concerned aunt who gave me a once-over last Christmas.) Let’s try this again. Nice girl. Nice girls don’t stay out late. They don’t forget their friends. They don’t drop everything and move for the sake of adventure. Nice girls don’t lie in the middle of the street and call it therapy. They don’t know how to become ghosts in two seconds flat. Nice girl. What happened to her? Killed her. Cursed her. Kept her hungry in the basement for so long that she gave up and went home. Pushed her aside and cared for poetry, coffee, and burnt curtains instead. Nice girl. Why don’t you call her up again? Ask her where she’s been? Ah, but where’s the fun in that? "

- The Self-Portrait | Lora Mathis 
It’s good fun writing like you’re insane  (via lora-mathis)

" holiness for you
was always in the quiet
of the world,
never in the flesh of another.

the blood you lick from your lips
must taste like freedom.
"

- Emily Palermo, excerpt of “Artemis (via splitterherzen)

(Source: camilla-macauley)

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