(bold = personal favorite)

𓂃i feel like neither a child nor an adult. i am a botched, failed creature, combining the worst qualities of each.

𓂃shock & awe. blood & bone.

𓂃it is not true that a burnt child dreads the fire. it is drawn to it like a moth to a flame. it knows that when it goes near it, it will burn itself again. still, it gets too close.

𓂃the trees you grew up with have not forgotten you.

𓂃you are not your father. you are your own man. man—— no, you’re just a kid. you’re just beginning.

𓂃i wanted. and this want festered within me, from infection to feverish desire, to have his sinew between my teeth and my tongue lapping at his pulse. / my lips, on his vein.

𓂃i would defang you, i would pluck your canines from your jaw. i would plunge my fingers into the bleeding holes of your gums. you wouldn't be a monster if you couldn't hurt me.

𓂃i make coffee. i pretend i'm in love with the idea of being alive. i make a point not to stare at the knives sitting on the counter top by the stove.

𓂃no one wants a half—remembered tragedy. you must know the width of the knife and how it ruined you, name the organs it kissed.

𓂃there is something pathetic about the way a dog loves. i point, you bite. i kick, you crawl. and you keep crawling back, again and again, because if you don't, you're just another stray. because you wouldn't be my dog.

𓂃alone in spirit, trigger—sensitive, coughing up blood.

𓂃one day i'll watch as you're leaving and life will lose all its meaning (for the last time.)

𓂃never say goodbye. if you don’t say goodbye you aren’t really gone. you just.. aren’t here right now.

𓂃disaster follows you like an abandoned dog that you can't help but feed.

𓂃violence breeds violence.

𓂃there is a monster inside me. i will nourish it.

𓂃abuse can feel like love ; starved people will eat anything.

𓂃just like your dad,you'll never change.

𓂃if rescuing you is a sin, i'll gladly become a sinner.

𓂃he will lose so much, and you will watch it all happen because you had him first, and you would let the world break its own neck if it means keeping him. start by wiping the blood off of his chin and pretending to understand.

𓂃you’ll forgive yourself… won’t you?

𓂃he lived and died as a human.

𓂃that person you once loved no longer exists; i really want to return him to you, but i can only give you a wretched version of your desires.

𓂃lace against thigh / mouth against flesh

𓂃how long ago did i die? where was i buried?

𓂃i’d rather die as a lamb than have to dress like a wolf.

𓂃she loved you and you killed her.

𓂃you're useless, less than useless. you're sick. people like you don't deserve to live. your friends are wrong about you. the person they love isn't you at all. you let them believe in a lie to protect yourself. you're nothing but a liar... and when they see the truth... they'll hate you as much as you hate yourself.

𓂃he often felt he was made of something liquid, something that was being continually poured from bright-colored bottle to bright-colored bottle, with a little being lost or left behind with each transfer.

𓂃the word "no", so short, so easy to say, a child’s sound, a noise more than a word, a sharp exhalation of air: all he had to do was part his lips, and the word would come out, and—and what?

𓂃he wished someone would tell him that he was still a full human being despite his feelings; that there was nothing wrong with who he was.

𓂃what is going to happen to me? he asked the sea. what is happening to me?

𓂃the axiom of equality states that x always equals x : it assumes that if you have a conceptual thing named x, that it must always be equivalent to itself, that it has a uniqueness about it, that it is in possession of something so irreducible that we must assume it is absolutely, unchangeably equivalent to itself for all time, that its very elementalness can never be altered. but it is impossible to prove. always, absolutes, nevers : these are the words, as much as numbers, that make up the world of mathematics. not everyone liked the axiom of equality... but he had always appreciated how elusive it was, how the beauty of the equation itself would always be frustrated by the attempts to prove it. it was the kind of axiom that could drive you mad, that could consume you, that could easily become an entire life. but now he knows for certain how true the axiom is, because he himself—his very life—has proven it. the person i was will always be the person i am, he realizes. the context may have changed: he may be in this apartment, and he may have a job that he enjoys and that pays him well, and he may have parents and friends he loves. he may be respected... he may even be feared. but fundamentally, he is the same person, a person who inspires disgust, a person meant to be hated. and in that microsecond that he finds himself suspended in the air, between the ecstasy of being aloft and the anticipation of his landing, which he knows will be terrible, he knows that x will always equal x, no matter what he does ... no matter how much he earns or how hard he tries to forget. it is the last thing he thinks as his shoulder cracks down upon the concrete, and the world, for an instant, jerks blessedly away from beneath him: x = x, he thinks. x = x, x = x.

𓂃it isn’t only that he died, or how he died; it is what he died believing.

𓂃and so i try to be kind to everything i see, and in everything i see, i see him.

𓂃the mouth of his gun was the closest she'd get to a goodbye kiss.

𓂃you've instilled a violence in me. drilled it into my bones, placed it in my hands, hid it beneath the soles of my feet. it's mine, now.

𓂃sometimes i forget how i got here. sometimes i forget how much i didn't want to survive.

𓂃i am tired of loving you. i am tired of grasping grief like a root in the stumbling dark.

𓂃i am tired. these people make me feel i have a hole in the middle of me.

𓂃i have dreamed of you so often, you are no longer real.

𓂃depraved boy; touch—starved & strung—out.

𓂃i want to feed you my body with every sweet part and every bitter one. then i will become sweet again, to eat your body whole, until there is nothing of me left..

𓂃you’re a stray dog. you don’t trust people. when people get too close to you, you shake, you shiver… you don’t know whether to lick or bite.

𓂃tomorrow is a hope, never a promise.

𓂃i can fit your image if i don't have to admit it, you were long gone before you ever left me. but i'm so scared to live without you.

𓂃he'll try to wash it off his fingers, but he'll never escape what he's made of.

𓂃sinking has no sound, it’s as silent as disappearing without a trace.

Edit

Pub: 01 Sep 2023 18:02 UTC

Edit: 25 Mar 2025 00:49 UTC

Views: 234