#*memes.

tagged by: no one, I yoinked it.

2. He likes records! Nothing compares to vinyl. 

( I'm gonna do one for both Carla AND Jaina... just because. )

fruit punch

your blood tastes like fruit punch, a fruit juice typically mixed with sweeteners and sodas. prominent flavors: sugar, ambiguous fruits, and uncomfortable school dances.

cabernet sauvignon

your blood tastes like cabernet sauvignon, a dry red wine. prominent flavors: dark fruits, pepper, and vanilla from oak aging.

when they don't know you're there

dark stormy blue

Sinking ships, raging seas and tumultuous hearts, love isn't easy for you. It's a struggle, a constant inner fight of should I? Can I? Do I? Feelings are hard and they rumble inside you in a dissatisfied mess that begs to be let out. Your heart screams and cries inside you and you... You can't, you won't. You're scared. And love is scary, it's hard and sometimes it just doesn't work out. People leave, people hurt, people change their minds. And you and your cold stormy heart yearn for the calmness, for the distance, to be allowed and able to simply not feel. And yet, you do. It rages, it fights and storms inside you and you try to keep it down, keep it quiet, to feel pretending not to. It's the burn of childhood friends growing apart, of parents that aren't quite there, of relationships that burn out. So you snuff it down with water, cold and calming and blue, blue, blue. But being loved by you is blue too, just not in that way. It's the soothing, embracing feeling of floating, the moment when you sink down bellow the waves and become one with the water, with everything. It's the balance, the dramatic yet calming sound of waves that crash against a rocky shore. You're the good and the bad, the violence of the storm and the watery peace right after. You're the blue, blue feeling and loving you is watery tears, yelled confessions that no one will hear and burying your feelings in a deep watery grave never to be found out about. Your love is dark stormy blue, it's vast and deep and all encompassing, it's safety in the surface of danger, it's trusting the unruly abyss and yet I'd gladly risk drowning just to feel what it's like being loved by you.

Splintered

Somewhere along the way you've been harmed. Thin fractures wrap across your soul like ancient withered marble. Perhaps we will never find the cause of such harm... but what is important is that you are safe from it, now; preserved eternally. Examined closely, but never touched. The wounds hurt, but you do not tell. There is no salve in the world that could rid you of them. Not anymore.