You’re In His Dms, The Thought Of Me Haunts Him To Death

Bold of you to assume i need a toxic person in my life. I am independent and I GASLIGHT myself. ✨ON. MY. OWN.✨

Please befriend me ♡

Reblog if it's okay to befriend you, ask questions, ask for advice, rant, vent, let something off your chest, or just have a nice chat.

please, please and please.

I just want to live in a big haunted Victorian house in walking distance of a bakery, a library, a bookshop, a forest, and a river and where I can befriend local ghosts and forest spirits. Not sure why that's asking so much.

My problem is that I want to be adored like a goddess by one person and be treated as a shadow by every single soul at the same time

Friday nights & Clandestines

The world is small when it is limited to your own room

And the thick smoke of his endless cigarettes

And cobwebs on the framed pictures of the lovers time buried/

The furniture is dusty with ashes of my past, but he doesn't mind that

He's okay with the fact

that we'll never last and the passion will wilt away like his cigarettes/

2 A.M. and Loving in adagio

Flesh meshing with mine and our heartbeats synchronised

We dont have to speak to communicate

As every caress is open to interpret

We are in separate wonderlands/

The night is unfurling and I wonder if our obscenity woke up the sun but

I cannot think clear because I am inebriated on the cadence of his voice and my head is on his chest

And I listen to him like I listen to that damned song/

Carefully/ intently/ on repeat

From start to finish.

The soundtrack is coming to an end

And so is his last cigarette

I will lay on his side of the bed and watch him leave

But the smoke will stay

And I won't open any windows

I'd let me suffocate/

I'm a writer before I'm a mistress

Hence I'll write love confessions with the remains of our night

And my fingers in the ashtray

Oh how I envied your cigarettes as they

Kiss your mouth more than I do/

But it's okay, you suck the life out of both of us.

why are books so expensive all i want is to be lost in another world with haunted old houses and coffee shops and vintage aesthetics and identify with the slightly twisted, mysterious and melancholic characters whose traits i subconsciously adopt lmao

every day i wake up and discover a new health problem that i have

Ewan Fernie, The Demonic: Literature and Experience

—mothers

ijeoma umebinyuo // hyatt moore // class of 2013 by mitski // i, tonya (2017) // ? // gustav klimt // ? // lady bird (2017) // i remain in darkness by annie ernaux

my mother has been worried about all the wrong things

i’m not about to fall in love with a monster, not the way you did

you’re scared i’ll be gullible, malleable like you are,

falling for the tricks my father used, the curl of tongue, the tilted lips

but oh,

can’t you see?

i’m the monster here, born from the same flesh you were mauled by,

my tongue curls and my lips tilt,

you’ve been worried about all the wrong things.