tfw you’re happy and feel like even if you were sad things would be okay but then the sad comes back & FUCK

Starlit, my lungs are flayed wide by the autumn air.

Plastics and metals all in various colours,

None of which quite strike my eye the way I’d like them to,

Surround me in the fluid that is night.

I sit overflowing; my cup runneth over;

Anything you want me to be:

I wonder why so much can enter but nothing can leave.

The swingset creaks beneath me.

An image of myself flickers under this body:

A cinema picture projected o'er pine trees,

Difficult to decipher from under the bedsheets.

Though my gaze lies outward, I see nothing outside of my skin.

I tap at what bends so seemingly natural to my form,

Hoping maybe something soft or gentle would convince it

To allow me to wander this small mortal plane as myself.

But it doesn’t- and Iʼm left here to grieve me like the planets and stars do

They glisten like the teardrops that fall down my face.

If some weapon could free me from this shell,

Then you believe me, I’d have tried it,

You believe me, I’d be gone.

i (i i) love cigarettes they make me feel so good (so good)

a dampened haunt of mushrooms follows, living on my footprint hollows. they know of my hiding wishes, and snicker at me: 

a lurking, skirting, winding, swaying, haughty cat; wish for food but do not ask, do not approach, and keep them wondering: why the fuck is he here if he’s so happy on his own?

a smoky room, my genetics laid out in fish bones on the ceiling, i wished i would never be dragged away again, but they stole her and they left me.

♪ ♪ this is my vent blog

♪ ♪ i wanna write it all night long

じゃ、小さいお姉ちゃん、さようなら。これは、人生の終わりですか?ごめんなさい、君は、最高の友達だった。

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- you’ll see my dick when i’m pissing on your grave

- fuck, i can’t stand up to piss wearing these gotdamn rollerblades

- oh, you do it like that?? thanks man, how about a friendly bathroom hug

a ha ha ha am i red bc of the crying or bc of the drankey we will never know

two kids on one street corner
two kids on another street corner
today, three am, marks the end
don’t hold the smoke too tightly about your lips
don’t let your head feel like crying
don’t remember those times he talked about you as though you were someone else
don’t remember the times they talked about him behind his back or in front of his face
two kids on one street corner
two kids on another street corner
today, eight am, i found out
i won’t hold the smoke too tightly about my lips
but my head already feels like crying
and i remember as i write those times he talked of me to my face
and those times they talked of him while he was in the room
two kids on one street corner
two kids on another street corner
maybe i’ll remember them instead
maybe today will be the day
of two kids on one street corner
and two kids on another street corner
and not the day we lost him