Affirmations

affirmations

-they should kill me

-they are going to kill me

-im scared because they are going to kill me

-they are going to kill me because i am scared

More Posts from Rumograph and Others

rumograph

6 months ago

Trying To Draw With Pens More Often ! Here Is A Lighter

trying to draw with pens more often ! here is a lighter

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my art art traditional art original art pen marker mixed media lighters are fun to draw

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rumograph

3 months ago

Some Flatland Drawings I Did For @mrs-conductor :]

Some Flatland Drawings I Did For @mrs-conductor :]

Some Flatland Drawings I Did For @mrs-conductor :]

some flatland drawings i did for @mrs-conductor :]

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my art art traditional art pen flatland flatland film flatland the movie flatland square

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rumograph

10 months ago

starting tomorrow i will be a real person in this world

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me every night before i go to bed

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rumograph

9 months ago

Didnt Know Which One I Liked Better . Take Both

Didnt Know Which One I Liked Better . Take Both

didnt know which one i liked better . take both

Tags

my art art traditional art x men pen wolverine logan howlett no i cant be bothered to colour it properly

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rumograph

5 months ago

Driving down the highway, a million bodies are
held under spotlights, bloodied and curled
The empty roads surging with the cracking of
ribs, the snapping of legs, wings, anything soft or easily broken splintering into a mess of whimpers and cries left mutilated on the curb Anything soft or scared lying still with the whispers of I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry But they only understand the humming of the
engine and that the cold won't be so forgiving tonight
Do you ever think that
they believe in the afterlife?
That they see the headlights
approaching and think
Thank God, maybe next time
it'll be me behind the wheel.

the goodbyes forgotten on highways [14.09.2024]

Tags

poetry poem original poem original poetry rumos poetry car crash poetry last four lines were from 06.04.2024

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rumograph

3 months ago

There are flat earthers on the TV and I'm fading in and out. The stars are a clock and I count them in my head until my lungs are polluted with constellations. All I can do is breathe, feel them spin in my throat. My wrists hang limp over the side of the sofa; magnetic declaration, geocentric distortion, some sort of heaven. The words drag themselves across the walls and I still see them when I close my eyes. Is this the final experiment? Is this the end for me? I don't know, at this point I'm more focused on keeping myself breathing. I'm lying dead on a hill of my own making, and god, the foxes outside are screaming like hell, but nobody even raises their head. There are flat earthers on the TV and a dead hound in the living room, and I'm fading in and out.

there are flat earthers on the tv // 16.01.2025

Tags

writeblr writing i dont know poetry poem original poem rumos poetry

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rumograph

1 month ago

You're on a sinking plane. A skeleton on a fish hook. Scrubbing the blood stains off the kitchen tiles. You're everything. It will all go sideways for you soon. But you're everything. Let's start again.

You're dying from the outside in. Your brother noticed it before you did. He doesn't know how to help so you ended up staying the night at his and smoking on the roof together. You want to fall asleep up there & you tell him so & he doesn't say it but he is scared what you really want is to jump. He noticed it before you did. Can you link the stars in a way that makes you feel something? You could when you were a kid. Actually, did you feel something then? Take another cigarette when he goes back inside. He won't notice. Maybe he will. What I should say is he won't talk about it.

It's Tuesday again. God. You drive your car like you're the hostage, the man gagged in the back, the body in the trunk. You take turns where you shouldn't. You see your blood seeping through the seats. You're meeting with your mother for lunch and you are sick & scared & tired. Outside the café there's an angel hanging limp in the power lines; a boy and his sister throw stones at it. Keep walking. You can't stop them. Lunch is nothing special and you leave with bleeding nails. You're dying from the outside in. Remember that.

This is your life & you are cigarette ash. But you're everything. You still have time. Let's start again.

remember: from the outside in

Tags

writeblr writing poetry poem original poem spilled ink rumos poetry 30.03.2025

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rumograph

3 months ago

i am not an angry person
or at least, i dont think i am,
not anymore, but
im sorry that i was

im sorry that people see me as an open palm
a closed fist, something aching to bite
im sorry that there are people who
would rather choke down chlorine
than choke out my name, and
im sorry that i would do the same

im sorry for the people who only saw
my life through databases and the scars covering everything ive got, and
im sorry that i couldn't have been
anything more than an open wound
im sorry that i didnt even try

im sorry for all the goodbyes that are rotting in
emails i dont even remember the passwords to
im sorry that i hope you wouldnt recognise me now,
and that i cant recall your faces, let alone names
im sorry that i was too scared to end it,
im sorry that there wasn't anything to end

im sorry that blood on my hands isn't mine,
but it will be, it will be and im
sorry i couldnt make everything better
im sorry i couldnt make anything at all.

a parasites lungs are filled with apologies, none of them spoken // forgive me

Tags

writeblr writing poetry poem original poem words spilled ink 19.10.2024 rumos poetry parasite days might put the date in tags now instead

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rumograph

1 month ago

does anyone want to be friends on goodreads. maybe

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im also rumograph on there its lonely out here ....

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rumograph

4 weeks ago

Bunny :)

bunny :)

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my art art traditional art ocs furry furry art original art pen

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rumograph - is rumo real ?

rumograph

is rumo real ?

the underground is a burial the same way the road is a cemetery

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