Dimples <3
I think of my paycheque like mana in a videogame. Once you run out you gotta chill for a bit to give it time to recharge.
loving you was like setting myself on fire, day after day, night after night, all for someone who stood by just to keep warm.
loving myself was like dousing my body in rosewater, relief from burns that didn’t deserve a place on my skin.
I think of my paycheque like mana in a videogame. Once you run out you gotta chill for a bit to give it time to recharge.
*Paycheck
Oh sorry! I live in Canada where we spell things correctly. I understand the confusion, though.
What a polite way to say fuck you
i hate when ppl make fun of me for trying 2 be positive and spread good vibes like fuck your bitter ass i spent a good portion of my short life being bitter and angry and suicidal if i wanna shoot sunshine out of my ass then i fuckin will
the worst part is when their all “we can’t all be neurotypical, Karen” like listen, I’m not neurotypical I’m just trying to get better jesus
Even Bigger Mood
I.
When you go for a walk in New York
I hope you’re tripping on the last stumbles
of the acid you took at 3 pm.
I hope you’re with good friends, kicking
a soccer ball around the corner just to find
the blue notes and yellow lights of the city
calling you into its depths.II.
You lose so much in small moments.
We walk down the East River to watch
the city lights on the waves.
I’m still hearing voices drifting from
around street bends, and
You light up a joint and let me
smoke it from your hand.
My pearl pink lipstick smears
on your fingertips. I think that the color
looks pretty when it touches your cheeks
every time you look at me.III.
We get lost down Avenue D and 6th, and I
hear a small girl, soprano, gospel music at nine at night
with the blue and red notes of police
down the corner, I hear her
siren wail into the night as we walk home.
“We’re in the bad part of town,” you say,
but the soundtrack of the gospel gloom
keeps the pace as we walk
from the church where the angel
sings to be brought home to heaven.IV.
What a strange night if we’re calling a 7-11 beautiful.
I don’t remember when you lost your shirt
or when my heel broke
but we can’t stop staring at the neon lights
of the sign above our dizzied heads.
You say we’re close, but our trip still isn’t over.
We have two blocks until home,
Four hours until the come down,
And miles to go before we sleep.V.
I went for a walk where I’ve never been and
found myself where I always was.
I have found that this, too, is
progress
