"I nod my head, say, Girls are so dirty
but I leave my used panties on the floor for days.
Have to fish out clumps of my hair from the shower drain,
wipe toothpaste from the faucet, clean period blood
from my sheets, leave my hair unwashed for a week,
sleep in my mascara and eyeliner. I pick at my acne
because my hands don’t know how to do anything
except destroy. The same boys stay hanging up
in my closet, snapshots of their mouths decorating
my nightstand the color of bruise. I practice saying
I love you into my palm and clench it tight
so it can’t escape. Forget it. No one asks if you’re okay.
No one wants a real answer. I make myself pretty
for boys I don’t even know how to talk to. I take them home.
Show them how to use the shower, the coffee pot.
Let them undress me in the dark. In the morning
I find wedding rings in their pockets."
Kristina Haynes, “Hypocrite” (via fleurishes)
"Johnny said once, Eating with someone is really intimate
and it’s stuck with me. So I decline dates at restaurants
because he’s right and it’s too soon and, anyway,
maybe I’ll hate how these long-necked boys
who don’t know how to hold a fork eat. I’ve written
a lot of things for him, Johnny, more than he knows about.
I am 22 now so naturally I miss everyone.
I am 22 so I roll my eyes when someone says love.
Dad has the air conditioner all the way up but I’m still
waking up sweating. My brother has taken to degrading
women in that casual way that boys do—flick of the shoulder,
dark-eyed, he is my father in miniature, but I love him,
as sisters do, even if I don’t agree with his mouth.
I wanted this poem to go somewhere important
but I keep looking over my shoulder. I hate mornings.
I keep spilling my guts out to strangers on the internet,
and this is not the first time I waxed my legs for a boy.
We’re all fighting over who we’re going to take home
and I’m still pretending I can play the clarinet.
Everyone keeps complimenting my nail beds.
Remember mood rings? Mine stays black."
Kristina Haynes, “Johnny Said Once” (via fleurishes)
"Chloe indulges in strawberry soft-serve
and licks her fingers after and this feels better
than the time she let a boy put his face between
her thighs, this feels better than when she took
three Tylenol for a headache, this feels better
than when she finally accepted her imminent death.
Chloe doesn’t remove her jeans before bed
and doesn’t believe in prayer. Chloe wakes up
with her mascara smeared and four new texts.
Don’t you think it’s time to stop romanticizing
un-sharpened pencils, Chloe? Don’t think
you’re fooling anyone with the broken eggshells
stuffed into the kitchen sink. Chloe will hold
the hand of someone who is very important to her
before the end of the week but for the life of her
she can’t stop crying into her coffee over boys who
don’t care. Sometimes she almost forgets her name
but then she finds the CD with it scribbled on like an
afterthought. Chloe, I know how sad you are.
I hear it every time the needle skips."
Kristina Haynes, “Chloe Indulges” (via fleurishes)
"And I understand. I understand why people hold hands: I’d always thought it was about possessiveness, saying ‘This is mine’. But it’s about maintaining contact. It is about speaking without words. It is about I want you with me and don’t go."
She was always holding my hand (via tikerion)
"

dear samantha
i’m sorry
we have to get a divorce
i know that seems like an odd way to start a love letter but let me explain:
it’s not you
it sure as hell isn’t me
it’s just human beings don’t love as well as insects do
i love you.. far too much to let what we have be ruined by the failings of our species

i saw the way you looked at the waiter last night
i know you would never DO anything, you never do but..
i saw the way you looked at the waiter last night

did you know that when a female fly accepts the pheromones put off by a male fly, it re-writes her brain, destroys the receptors that receive pheromones, sensing the change, the male fly does the same. when two flies love each other they do it so hard, they will never love anything else ever again. if either one of them dies before procreation can happen both sets of genetic code are lost forever. now that… is dedication.

after Elizabeth and i broke up we spent three days dividing everything we had bought together
like if i knew what pots were mine like if i knew which drapes were mine somehow the pain would go away

this is not true

after two praying mantises mate, the nervous system of the male begins to shut down
while he still has control over his motor functions
he flops onto his back, exposing his soft underbelly up to his lover like a gift
she then proceeds to lovingly dice him into tiny cubes
spooning every morsel into her mouth
she wastes nothing
even the exoskeleton goes
she does this so that once their children are born she has something to regurgitate to feed them
now that.. is selflessness

i could never do that for you

so i have a new plan
i’m gonna leave you now
i’m gonna spend the rest of my life committing petty injustices
i hope you do the same
i will jay walk at every opportunity
i will steal things i could easily afford
i will be rude to strangers
i hope you do the same
i hope reincarnation is real
i hope our petty crimes are enough to cause us to be reborn as lesser creatures
i hope we are reborn as flies
so that we can love each other as hard as we were meant to.

"
 Jared Singer, An Entomologist’s Last Love Letter (via tikerion)

heelerandthehound:

Oh my god. 

primalooze:

a piece of advice from somebody who’s been through this a few times already: if somebody gives you a bad vibe trust your gut

"You are so used to your features, you don’t know how beautiful you look to a stranger."