whatever i touch, i break—
not with physical force
but with emotional intensity
— midas touch: reversed, 2023
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@blushingxpilgrims
whatever i touch, i break—
not with physical force
but with emotional intensity
— midas touch: reversed, 2023

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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“But love is impossible and it goes on despite the impossible. You’re the muscle I cut from the bone and still the bone remembers, still it wants (so much, it wants) the flesh back, the real thing, if only to rail against it, if only to argue and fight, if only to miss a solve-able absence.”
— Ada Limón, ‘In a Mexican Restaurant I Recall How Much You Upset Me’ in Bright Dead Things: Poems
he wants to know me
(and i want to let him)
Sidney Sheldon, “Master of the Game”

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yes & no by natalie wee
THE ROTTING
Like poison
Like bliss
A persistent ache
Between the shoulder blades
I’m always too late
What if my anatomy
Is against me?
(I once read we start to die
the minute we are born)
I am of the in-between
Doomed duality
I’m going to say this directly
Through clenched teeth:
you terrify me
Boneless
It happens when
You look at me
One day
I’ll tell you everything
i wanted to tell him i loved him on a saturday night
but the time wasn’t right
he was hurting inside
and the words were caught in my throat
eight years too late
one night too soon
so i sat and watched the way he came to life
as he moved under the lights
through the night
hands above his head
do you know what you’ve done?
what you’ve become
to me?
i sit, sit
quietly
if anyone asks
this is where i’ll be
— i wanted to tell him i loved him on a saturday night; 2025

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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cleaved in two,
i yearn for you
—yearning, 2025
i don’t have much to say
other than the way you talk
the way you move is unfair
compared to my
spider-like tendencies
i want to splinter and devour
weave and consume
eight legs sprouting from my head
six to grasp it all
and two to hold onto you
though you were never mine to lose
—spider-like, 2025
Ono no Komachi & Izumi Shikibu, tr. by Jane Hirshfield & Mariko Aratani, The Ink Dark Moon: Love Poems by Ono no Komachi and Izumi Shikibu, Women of the Ancient Court of Japan
i was born two months prematurely in a hospital room i have no recollection of. i’m told i came out screaming. who could blame me? the first cry is symbolic, i suppose. “a good sign!” strong lungs. life outside the womb. a healthy transition. what do they know? i’d say it’s a premonition for future grief. i’m still kicking and screaming, lungs heaving, trying to get the words out.
—BIRTH, 2025

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to love is to spill your guts, right?
idk. i wrote a poem about it though.
read here: https://medium.com/@alizajgarza/the-autopsy-2da833848aa2?sk=7878c125247ebef29712fb01a663a8cb
xx
A poem