Days after, the world was drenched of sad eyes 
that wanted to apologize
for things they’d never done.

Now, your boyfriend won’t look at you with your red hair
mimicking a pool of blood, the same  
that dribbled out onto your thighs.

Each strand whispering to him ‘it’s her fault.’
He thinks your drunk on your own pain 
and he’s drunk on the real stuff.

So, the heart wants to cave, close in.
You’re imagining tiny feet, tiny fingers 
wrapping themselves around yours.

You’re imagining giving it a name 
instead of calling it,
it.. like some unknown object.

Now, his hand’s against your stomach 
in a warm shame
and your palm’s against your stomach 
as cold hatred.

It felt my womb long enough to decide it didn’t want to stay.

Babies who only make it as leftover guts 
staining a white porcelain throne 
like dead skin, bruised and flushed away.

An overthrown-by-your-body unknown king or queen 
with their bloodshed legacy beating 
like the hooves of warhorses against your heart.

Half of me is missing.

I am in love with eyes never seen,
In love with a smile never kissed
In love with hands never held,
In love with lungs that never took a breath,
In love with all the things I broke before they
were ever able to form.

If only I could have carried our baby,
the way I carry this regret.

I can’t get over the nightmare I had this morning. It was too much, too painful, too real, too soon.

Two children without faces but their laughter is heard. They’re running around while Dave and I have no idea where to look. This place is made of cement. Transition. I am in my bed, Dave beside me, while light tapping occurs at the top stairs at my door. I can’t breathe, I can’t move and Dave is fast asleep. The rapping at the door becomes louder, quicker then stops. Now whatever it is is gliding over the stairs, quiet. I can’t hear a sound. It feels like eternity from the time it stopped knocking and the time I finally saw it. All I can see is a shadow and it’s jerking towards me (imagine the way it appears someone moves under a strobe light). Until it slowly creeps with it’s face pressed so close to mine, almost touching. And with him, laying gently over me.. I start to feel heat, burning, death, numbness, a loss of self expanding from beneath my belly button to the entirety of my body — I cannot see it but I know he is lighting my stomach on fire. I want to scream, to cry, to end. I am not sure if I do. Things fade to black then to white then I open my eyes again and see by the softest glow of orange light that he is smirking. 

"Who are you?" I ask.

"Heaven," he says. I start to scream and he turns up the heat.

I suffered a loss without knowing I had something to lose.

Léa Seydoux, Grazia France, August 2013

Léa Seydoux, Grazia France, August 2013

(Source: sylviagetyourheadouttheoven)

Unfolding in the dark against your translucent skin like lotus petals blossoming against lily pads. 

Sarah Jones, The Rose Gardens, 2008

Sarah JonesThe Rose Gardens, 2008

If anyone can tell me and give me tips on how to budget and do life things on a small paycheck considering as I am horrendous, let a sister know because that would be really helpful.

Things to remember: I have the skin of a luna moth and an ass made from the sun and the personality of a bratty vixen.

Come to me—get closer and closer to me. It will be beautiful, I promise you.

Henry Miller

(Source: rarararambles)

(Source: blackblackgold)

Basement life is much too hot and I’ve been having the oddest food cravings.

Basement life is much too hot and I’ve been having the oddest food cravings.