ifwelast

[ifwelast]

the first lie i told with my body wasn’t a lie 

in a bathroom stall, fever dream spiralling out of my hands into the coils of spine arching down my back, sitting there on the cold toilet seat and wanting to die three times over and then be resurrected like some sick sort of jesus just so everyone could call it miracle when it hurt. i came out of that bathroom stall and lost edges to something similar in the movie theatre cradled with one box of buttered popcorn, half sweet and half salty because i couldn’t decide what i loved

when my mother asked about the girl who picked me up every saturday at half seven and told me it was nice to make friends, and i ignored the papercut sting of my head correcting “friend” to “beloved”

nylon scratched my elbows as i stared down at my arms hyper aware of every atomic molecule brushing against the next secretly longing for her soft silk instead, longing for her instead 

so long, she said and it felt so wrong i would have cried but i was still holding the popcorn

so long. so short.

[ifwelast]

you’ve come this far and you know you have left this too late as the earth swallows you up in flintgrass shots of whisky that holds the papercut sting of childhood, silt and dead bugs brushing against that windowpane. don’t look back sounds like a church bell in a glass classroom you live a little instead, digging sore hangnails into flesh ridden earth. the grass is plastic and neon and lit up like stars, imploding and vibrating and shifting against your touch-starved pupils flicking up to meet the muddy tarmac don’t look back is all you know as he trips out of pure sunlight into living and desperate. rhapsodical is one word for it, kneading a dry pulse as the ground gives way beneath you and the earth’s core vibrates with pleasure and don’t look back is a lie so you look back and look back again. he sings one last song and you shiver with pleasure that isn’t yours and the horizon looks longer than it did yesterday.

[ifwelast]

this is actually my favourite poem

Because It’s Summer by Ocean Vuong

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someday i’m gonna be somebody people want

jennifer s cheng so we must meet apart // winter nocturne with lonely road // mahmoud darwish in the presence of absence // unknown // james frey a million little pieces

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reblogging a poem i wrote!!

june 2025

pride poem in honour of pride month!

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you can go back to the past but nobody’s there

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Ocean Vuong / On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

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Ocean Vuong, from “Reasons for Staying.” [ID in alt text]

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and bless the daughter but fuck the family

it lingers for your whole life - katie maria/the sun is also a star - nicola yoon/the lost girls: a poetry collection on girlhood, grief, and growing up - lyra wren/crush - richard siken/unknown/on earth we're briefly gorgeous - ocean vuong/ @emmajadepaige/stick season - noah kahan/promises of gold - josé olivarez/matilda - harry styles/susan smith - wych elm/tangerine - nolune/#6 - aroara/right now - gracie abrams/love & a loaded gun - emily rose cole/someday I'll love - ocean vuong/ @parentless-suggestions/unknown/the burning - venetta octavia/you can love him but you can't keep him - @pencap/a poem from the adult daughter to the narcissistic mother: not your fault, not mine, just is - katherine fabrizio/courtney love prays to oregon - clementine von radics

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happy my mother said I could be anything I wanted but I chose to live monday

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same person, different fonts

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jil sander ss10

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Julien Macdonald Spring 2015 RTW

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the three different genders- slut, princess and loser and WILLE FITS ALL OF THEM

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I feel like I've posted about this before but I do find it deeply funny that the students of Hillerska probably expected this hardcore party prince guy with a "fuck you" attitude and then received just an anxious guy who spends most of his time curled up in a ball or picking flowers for his boyfriend.