February 2012
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late one night i am going to break into your heart. i will lower ropes in through your throat and jump down your trachea. the torch i strapped to my head in advance will bounce red light off the curves of your lungs and i will tread carefully, so you do not even cough.
(this is something i am going to keep working on i think)
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maybe i’m a romantic after all
i have spent hours picking through stacks of needles looking for the sharpest one to undo all my stitching and cut my hems.
my corners are frayed and bent from the constant back-and-forth: i collapse, inverted and they sew me back up tighter than before
i remember when you came to me, your eyes like cracked oxblood marbles you said you had been swimming in...
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Doing a sociology course on human bodies, culture and society.
A lot of it is about body modification and body abuse, it’s super interesting.
(i hope the part when we talk about pro-ana isn’t triggering because that wouldn’t be fun)
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i need to learn to write more and talk less, let shimmery words out and keep the rusty ones inside. everything i say is a moth’s wings after all the pretty dust has been knocked off.
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Anonymous asked: What's your email address?
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i won’t look at triggering blogs when i’m sad i won’t look at triggering blogs when i’m sad i won’t look at triggering blogs when i’m sad
sigh
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tumblrsquare asked: you are so beautiful, single or taken?
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sealfeathers:
do not tumble dry
i am no good at sewing so it’s no surprise that i can’t fix up the holes you tore i can’t quite find the right colour thread anyway so they can just wait until later in the month
but even on spin cycle the stains you left me with refuse to budge
and no matter how often i hang myself out to dry pegs pinching my cheeks and arms
there is still something here sour...
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