you are but a glimpse just a glimpse but i find myself forever staring
NASA
$LAYYYTER
d e v o n
Stranger Things
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
cherry valley forever
styofa doing anything
One Nice Bug Per Day

if i look back, i am lost

#extradirty
Misplaced Lens Cap
occasionally subtle

Origami Around
taylor price

oozey mess

Kaledo Art

roma★
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@carnephilia
you are but a glimpse just a glimpse but i find myself forever staring

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i tell myself that i cant keel watching you die again and again but i do. its all ive got left. and so i bear witness
He never hit me.
He scarcely raised his voice.
In fact, I never heard much from him at all.
But of course none of it’s true.
Every ill feeling I hold,
how he neglected to parent me as a child,
it’s unreasonable.
He insists, I’m wrong.
He convinces me, I’m wrong.
I convince myself I'm wrong.
He did nothing wrong.
I mistrust every emotion I have.
All my thoughts are wrong.
It’s only later,
when I feel the stabbing silence of my father in another man,
I will be reminded that the hole in my chest is undoubtedly real.
Red soaks deep through the threads of my shirt, while my brain tricks me into saying I’m fine.
louise glück, the white series // claude monet, houses in the snow // fyodor dostoyevsky, the gentle spirit // jane o. wayne, with solitude //reddit user artsykate, winter nocturne with lonely road // joseph brodsky, to m.b. // fyodor dostoevsky, poor folk // caspar david friedrich, winter landscape // audre lorde, the cancer journals // mahmoud darwish, memory for forgetfulness
you are what i purge out of myself again and again but i always end up exorcising myself in the end

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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I am my mothers obsession, my fathers tenacity (but only when it doesnt count), their stubbornness, their collective will to not listen, their 'there can only be right and I must establish mine as such,' I am the celebration of a wound festering, the scars we keep as victories, uncured meat left to slowly rot, I am their willingness to delay, to bleed, to clot, I am all their miscommunication, unspoken words expected to be delivered, to be heard nonetheless, I am their lack of effort I am both net zero and the sum total of their experience I am a wreath of curse bestowed upon them, I am that which they cannot evade, I cannot escape them as well, I am a mourning prayer that hasnt left their lips because they too, like the rest of the world, have not realised, I was supposed to be vanquished yet I thrive, I bleed and I have much more blood to offer to the altar of madness
I am but a sacrifice they prepared a little too well
Afflicted by the rot
Stricken by the gaze
girl beloved becomes girl beloathed
girl beloved becomes girl so wretched that i cannot think of you without fighting the urge to retch. my insides simmer with turmoil i wish i could bury the thought of you just as i have buried so many in my little plot
you ask so much of me and none of it is beautiful i want to throw up i want to stab myself repeatedly until i am quelled of desires and wants. i want to cleanse myself of the filth that is i but even swallowing bleach doesnt provide me with the desirable results. there is that word again, desire, how badly i wish to know who crafted it, i am full of it just as i am devoid of it
my desires dont exist dont matter for i want nothing for myself but they exist all the same even in its non existence i wish you'd lay me down like im dead. i wish to have a quiet funeral, i wish to depart unmourned. i wish you'd stop jabbing me with your forked tongue, i no longer wish to move
oh why was i cursed to dwell with the living?
i wonder if there are consequences of etching my aching into words
i wonder if im capable of feeling the ache of anything at all
my fragmented emotions, how i tire of piecing you together
is there a receptor for emotions just like there is for pain
when did i learn to disable it and why is my control of it waning
sometimes i wonder whether you're a death sentence or a stone set so far into the future that me of the present has no chance of impacting it

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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This is not a threat. Well except maybe it is.
And before I know it, the boy becomes a vision and stops being simply mine