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teacup13
there are people who leave
your heart full of heartbeats
& sentences that weigh more
than a tongue in purgatory,
yet my dreams have stalled
for a thimble to fill a cup of
blood & I can still time your
evaporation; if I dreamed
hard enough, it would be, if
I drew casts on the trees, they
would believe too - darling, in
the end we’re all just
stories
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Wolves do “Family” better than humans
"In some version of your existence, you'd have the strength to protect them all, alas, here we are, and this is not it." - Wolves know the truth about family
maybe the closest / we'll come to love is a book / written in our blood
haiku 274/365
love has this dirty / habit of getting under / finger nails for good
haiku 39/1000
I meant to say something kind - prompt
I am not enough, but I am all I am. I sleep with screams on doors too melodious to blink the dust of dreams. I cross your words out of winter because I’ve dotted my fears with a mute laugh. and maybe our hearts play hopscotch between blind cars, and your voice hangs differently after sleeping on my tongue, but soft isn’t how you season your words. soft isn’t a hand that tunnels your vision to a receipt with your name on it. soft isn’t a poem I write, knowing you’re still at the beginning. there’s so much to remember about the way you forgot me, but hurting this much all the time hurts
@teacup13 - I am not enough, but I...
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.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“I could read your poems back to you, but you already know what they sound like with my voice in your head.”
http://teacup13.tumblr.com/post/178202000359/theres-a-transparency-that-doesnt-translate
there’s a transparency that doesn’t translate sincerity when your eyes vow to blink in sentences that deteriorate bones. I am better loved from a safe distance, the planets don’t mock the footsteps you take in the wrong direction when red rests on your lips, yet you always look at the sky like a conversation. and maybe the ocean is a question we’ll never ask, but I still picture cold as the months we stopped talking about filling your hands. the insatiable crux to provoke the hamlet of your heart, I can’t ask you to love the darkness ill never show light to, or read about the scars I’ve chalked up to another constellation that’s tired of waiting for this to be a decision - another word and maybe I’ll fall from a height that won’t break my neck, another drink and maybe this blood will blur my vision enough to erase the doubt behind your structure. another mark across my heart and maybe the only sharp object the moon will have to hide are the words I say when your eyes are closed. I tell myself I’ll finish these thoughts tomorrow, but I’m just waiting for these ghosts to put on your clothes.
Alexandria / a name to make sorrowful / the dreams I couldn’t — haiku: 170/365: lupeo#1
