have you considered that maybe i am not pleasant?
maybe i wear lipstick so that
you will see my pretty pink mouth
wrapping around a coffee cup lid
and be distracted enough not to notice
that i am intelligent and powerful;
maybe i draw my brows into high arches
so you will look at my unimpressed skepticism
and overlook my spiteful glare
as a trick of my silly, girlish routine.
maybe i wear my heels so high and thin
so that i grasp your attention with the sway of my hips
as i listen to the click-clack-click against the floor
and know that if you should try to overpower me
i walk on sharpened knives.
maybe when i laugh at your worthless jokes
i am really baring my fangs
waiting patiently for the day
that i sink them into your neck.
i am not made of porcelain pleasantries;
you will find that these things are my armor
to keep you at a distance
so you do not step on me and shatter
my fragile control.
i am not a husk — i am not wilting.
i am turning my head
so that the fire blazing through my eyes
does not catch on the accelerant of your sweaty palms
and burn your bones to dust.
i am not your pretty girl;
i am a fury, a faerie, a phoenix —
a forest of werewolves and wendigos
that will carve out your chest
so that the next time i paint my pretty pink lips
i will taste the copper tang of your dying breaths.
posted 1 month ago | via
Rolling Stone Vs. The Beatles
You will always be to me a familiar mystery…
when guys are dressed in suits and they unbutton the top of their shirt and they undo their bowtie but keep it hanging under their collar and maybe they roll up their sleeves a bit and their hair is all disheveled and
How Leo’s acceptance speech will begin when he wins an award:
For the greatest tragedy of them all
Is never to feel the burning light.
i always feel so bad when people leave me nice messages and they’re like “i’m so sorry if this is creepy” like no are you serious you’re not creepy at all have you seen my blog i’m the fucking creepiest person alive