The Pixie Weapon

I have a liar’s face

Stretched over a raw soul.

God made me with freckles,

dots under my eyes

like tear stains

from ducts that never could cry.

Wrinkles at 21

Stories from a short life.

A few crook’d teeth

in a wild dog’s smile

Ripped up hands,

well-rank feet

and a dimply ass.

Why would you ever want me?

Because I’m a train whistle

sounding late in the night,

through your bedroom window

begging you to come outside.

I would plagiarize God 

and say I made the moon for you

Ants on the pavement 

don’t crawl near as far

as I would for you.

I would lie down in the dirt 

with the beetles and worms.

But not cause you said so

but because it sounds kinda fun.

But enough about me,

what about you?

I forgot to ask,

how was your day, dude?

(via asyllum)

Caramel eyes

like I’m sugar and you’re a fire

Living a thousand lives

beneath the spot lights

What I wouldn’t beg, borrow or steal 

for a moment in between

the two arms on your body, breathe,

shaky like a leaf

in the March wind

I have nothing to give

but love, the end.

Next paragraph, begin.

Water through my finger tips, blend

Paint smears all over my skin.

Loosey, Goosey. Puddin n pie

you make me fall down and cry

I’m so happy I could die

My little death, so alive.

Gnawing on your rib bones

I’ll give you everything I own

Just to be with you

Alone.

(via )

Side of the Moon

I can’t remember

what our “we” was before.

Lovers or brothers 

or friendship or fancy?

I only remember a waxing.

or was it a waning?

Or a popping noise.

Or a quite breath.

There was a song,

but were you hearing it again?

or for the first time?

My campaign is:

Before doesn’t exist.

Just the “we”

in the “now”

There doesn’t have to be a “later”

but I need to hold you once more.

For posterity.

For love.

For friendship.

Forever.

In the now. 

The side of the moon that appears.

All I need is you to be happy.

No sadness in our veins.

Just the shine of your teeth through the shape of your lips

turned upwards; so I can remember them intimately.

Warm hands wrap around my heart

when I think about you,

even if I’m not beside you.

There’s a fierce typhoon of love

that sweeps me into the tide.

And I’m ready to go under.

and resurface on a beach somewhere deep in the Pacific.

Friend, lover, brother. 

I’ll be in your arms forever. 

And hold the spark so dear like a baby bird.

I and when its ready to fly I will not crush it.

Just wave to from the ground

as its wings drift anew through the trees.

Life will paint me many different colors 

and my heart will beat to the frequency of many animals

but I’ve recorded them all and laid them all out

the ones I’ve lost

the ones I’ve walked away from. 

I’ve married them all in my head

and will never ever let them go.

All I need is that they be happy.

(via glittertomb)

boudoirboudoir:

. (by alvertigo † alberto polo iañez)

It about that time

of the night

when my hands smell like lust

and burnt tobacco.

When I fucked up sleeping, 

yes, I fucked up sleeping

and one day bleed into the next.

Something exists in my heart,

someone exists in my mind.

That I made up off the cuff

from the magic that attacks me from all sides.

Frogs croak in syncopation

with the meter boxes.

The sky burst open with a man, 

with a bow and two dogs behind him.

He is my dream, my nightmare,

the yin and yang of my desires.

The double exposure of love and life

that duel on the front lawn

to be my champion.

Baby on a skateboard 

and the world’s not ending

it just keeps on turning 

and we keep growing

not up but down in the tight ass jeans

into the black cross means 

that our mamas don’t see

cause of course they’d cry

to know they raised us so bad

skinned knees, falling bloody like Stalingrad 

on the dirty concrete

on that super sick grind

twist sideways, say cheese

and lift your paws 

from the handlebars

Follow through but don’t commit

Its not the landing we stick

not the progressive state of mind

that goes fowards with time

we go back. 

to the way back, Delorean wild

The motherfucking get up gang

with nothing to say 

because shit we got that good good

Michael Jackson bad.

And Kanye’s on the bedside

holding our hand.

The stars all have the key 

so put on our wings

and let us touch the sun 

and when we burn up we’ll see

that maybe the running

and maybe the drugs

won’t take us as high

as we thought we was

bitches ain’t shit but hoes and tricks 

suck on these balls while I take a minute and get

my head on straight

cause babies licking molly off a pocket knife

makes me wonder 

what the fuck am I doing with my life?

Blow my ashes in through the wind

And breath my words like blood

Rushing through veins to the reproductive minds

that made me

We’re tired of demanding

We need more blessings that enliven our spirits

Because I’m on the ever-loving edge of falling

Lying prostrate upon the mountain’s cliff

Crying for my mother

Crying for my lover

Crying for the ones I’ve found and held

They’re so dear that I’m breathless from screaming out for them

And the wild wind carries those cries far and wide

Dusty listless words drifting to all of your ears.

I don’t want to end the world

I don’t want to crush the hills

And I don’t want to dam the rivers

I just need to know you hear me 

Strong and mad and clear.

(via pure-skin)

I’ve got two little pills sitting in front of me

On the table top under candle light.

One is pink the other is green

both have little words printed upon them saying 

“taste me.”

The green one I pop every day.

With a spoon full of sugar and a shot of burbon.

However tonight it seems I’m all out of both.

A tiny pink capsule is left.

Staring into my soul cavity and breath.

Like an eye, black like doll’s eyes. 

The eyes of a whale holding a cavern of infinity 

of a ocean undiscovered by man. Or woman.

The green guy balances everything in me

The stress the pain with excitement and joy.

It clears the sweet eyes that I look through

And wipes the smoke off of my lungs

So I can breath. Deep, strong and unwavering.

I can take any blow. 

I can smite any foe.

I can stand and fight all the beasts in front of me

And I’ve been promised I never will die.

The pink pill I’ve been told is my weakness

Its all the skin I haven’t touched

All of the drinks that haven’t rushed 

passed my teeth and down my thoat.

It is all the words I’ve swallowed and choked on.

It will bring them back with a vengeance. 

It will intoxicate me on freedom

And put men under the tips of my fingers.

It will bring the world crashing down around me.

And everything I know will implode with great magnitude.

I’m not ready for chaos

I’m ready for change.

Is this my choice?

It so clear the world I anticipate

where colors are brighter and stars are clearer.

Where my heart can be pulled from my chest

like a muscadine grape ripe from the vine?

Catharsis will pour out of me like blood from a wound,

This wound that a tiny pink pill will put into me?

To be continued…

(via pure-skin)

I don’t give a goddam shit

who I mow down in the first place or the last place

all I can do is eat and sleep and trust 

whoever the fuck

I feel like I’m supposed to.

if it isn’t you then you’re not alive

I don’t believe in you

I don’t need you to survive 

you’re a rabbit, a vole, a baby deer

to rip down to swallow whole and not hear a sound

of sadness because you’re deep in my veins

feeding my legs, arms so I can live another day

This isn’t selfish

Its self preservation. 

I’m an animal

so are you

I’m just better adapted than you

Don’t fault me,

I have to survive 

amongst the thinkers, the do-ers and the others that reside

along side me. 

and I’m not afraid

To eat off your bones if you’re in my way. 

But I’m sorry.

To this polite refrain

I got to survive just like you my friend

sugarvirus:

älg (by mon dieu!)

Quote Me

take thewords right out of my mouth

pull them past my lips and through my teeth

and pretend that they were yours all along. 

I got a way with them 

and I hope that they match your tone,

just so no one gets suspicious and accuses you of vernacular plagiarism.

You could use them in class when you’re late and need a good excuse

or when your girlfriend says you don’t spend enough time with her.

Because I’m real good at not giving a shit

about that kind of shit.

(via asyllum)