manka-on-main

[manka-on-main]

I truly hope that one day you’ll be able to forgive yourself. You were never hard to love - you just always felt so responsible for those around you that I don’t think you ever stopped to take care of yourself. I loved you so much - but I just couldn’t be the one to fix you.

[manka-on-main]

Murder Scene

What is a body but a place to hide your secrets? If I could rip them from the inside of my skin I would.  A tangle of veins and regrets. Dripping blood and tears All over your freshly cleaned kitchen tile  That still smells like lemons over the scent of decay And all the skeletons in the closet. 

I can’t call my mom - she is panic and red lights.  Dad died calling for the daughter I’ll never have.  I’m getting bad again. Going mad again.  I want short dresses and hard drugs and pretty boys.  Things that mean nothing but leave bruises behind. 

My body is a tomb of hopes and dreams.  My body is in a rush to die, to rip itself to shreds To scream at the world that you can’t break me I’m already broken like old dolls and chipped mugs.  I am here to devour your love and starve for more. 

What is a girl but a murder waiting to happen? 

[manka-on-main]

Automated valve 

(Source)

[manka-on-main]

I ran out of the coping skills my therapist dispenses, but there's always the old fashioned ones. There's always a dark bar and unkissed mouths and drinks that burn on the way down and unanswered messages and regrets.

There are so many regrets in the backseat of this car whose time I rent by the minute while I sit in a body I rent by the year. I am outrunning the inevitable clock, screaming that I'll shatter before I let the world shatter me.

I am sick of fighting battles I always lose with the girl in the mirror. I want to erase her so thoroughly she'll never be found again.

Maybe I'll lose her tonight in the crowd.

Maybe she'll lose me.

[manka-on-main]

Enchanted Mermaid by Mirabilia. The beads! The beads! So many beads. by gooberdaisy

[manka-on-main]

Dark Queen of the Sea by Autumn Lane Stitchery by kalukitas

[manka-on-main]

I slashed my hands open

On broken shards of bitter memories

That I wanted to give you

But you didn't want them

It's okay.

I didn't choose to shatter either

But I was built to break

And you were made to bloom.

[manka-on-main]

i went out on a saturday morning to buy poetry books which i could read to you while you fall asleep.

i sat on the floor of the bookshop in the town where i was born, skirt in a puddle on the wood, and dreamt of you in a place far away.

and if handing over the dollars folded up in my pocket in exchange for words that might soothe you isn’t love, then what?

opening the book, finding it new and the pages untouched, i crossed my legs underneath me and started to read

the cadence was just right- it never is when i read new poems and yet-

maybe it was your presence, the sound of your pillow rustling and the quiet way that you mumble

i love you

when i ask, are you okay?

are you okay?

i love you.

the answer is sufficient and you, more than.

you fell asleep and i whispered i love you’s into the darkness and found- is this the first time? maybe-

that i didn’t mind the quiet, in exchange for your rest.

i suppose, the love was never in buying the books after all,

but in the listening to you sleep.

[manka-on-main]

Romeo Gigli spring/summer 1990 silk, cotton, acetate, nylon, spandex, leather, mother-of-pearl

[manka-on-main]

I LIKE SEALS FOR A REASON

I see no difference

[manka-on-main]

Xiaolin Design ‘Maleficent’ & ‘Black Swan’ Haute Couture Cape and Gown [x] [x]

[manka-on-main]

Linda Friesen

[manka-on-main]

Giulio Ingrosso

[manka-on-main]

Automated valve 

(Source)

[manka-on-main]

“i don’t understand how you just get so much stuff done under pressure and like don’t freak out” i just go into autopilot bro like i genuinely do not know what happens in high volume situations. i let my body deal with that shit. not for me

[manka-on-main]

He took his stuffed animal with him for his walk 🥺

[manka-on-main]

I don’t know how to tell you that I am nothing but the sum of my broken parts.  I have sat outside my own body and watched it falter, then fail.  I have been in beds full of silence that I wish I could leave,  but every person who has ever loved me has only loved what they could take.

I have wanted and waited in the cold for rides that never came.  I have weighed my denials carefully, like bombs and fuses, counting them like the cost of war. 

I am never the first option or the best choice, an awareness that haunts me in every whispered conversation. Isolation isn’t safety, it is death, and the world is beyond my reach more now than it’s ever been. 

Maybe there’s a world where my calls are always answered and I’m not longer afraid of the click on the other end of the line. One where my breath comes easy and the world carries me with it. 

It would be easier to say no. Stop. Don’t.  But I am still learning how to be the person you want me to be.  With all of my broken parts.