serpentskiirt

[serpentskiirt]

im okay with being the friend that's too woke

[serpentskiirt]

i want a boy like a hound dog to teach me how to whistle

to find a little cabin in the yarrow and the thistle

i'm waiting on the kettle while he's writing me a song —

i'll leave you in the winter but you're mine all summer long

[serpentskiirt]

[serpentskiirt]

i hate being in public because it's a constant battle between silently begging that anybody acknowledge my existence and then also silently begging everybody to stop mentally acknowledging my existence

[serpentskiirt]

Not so happy with this one but ok!

[serpentskiirt]

Seraphine Saintclair, “Birthday Poem III”

[serpentskiirt]

mulder voice: i find your lack of whimsy..disturbing..

[serpentskiirt]

sheepish is a really funny word. fuck im so nervous (turns into this)

[serpentskiirt]

[serpentskiirt]

CA: i dont knoww i wwasnt expectin this at all CA: im not sure i can handle this

[serpentskiirt]

in this dream, i'm a kamikaze parasite jet pilot and you're an anti-navy destroyer warship. we meet deep in the raging, burning heart of the battle. i want a dogfight, and you have the bombs. i want a dogfight. you don't want to die.

the mottled smoke from the first explosion curls above us into black filigrees; blood rushing to the brain, orchids falling off the branch. neither of us know who shot the first missile, but i watch your starboard spill into the pacific sea, stained glass forming a basilica on the water's edge— oh, st. joseph, pray for us in copertino— but

it takes 19 missiles for us to reach the end of the shoot-out. as you sink down in your scrap metal chapel, bubbling up your bloated prayers, i nose-dive into your gritted teeth and carve a hole in your heart. in this dream, we both die, and this time, it's my choice.

the ocean set on fire starts a hymn of pops and crackles, with nothing left to hear it but a graveyard of young men, singing:

i want a dogfight. i don't want to die.

i want a dogfight. i don't want to die.

i want a dogfight. i don't want to die.

[serpentskiirt]

a girl who is a noir detective man and a guy who is a femme fatale

[serpentskiirt]

movin' out (anthony's song) — billy joel (1976-03-14 @ the old grey whistle test, london, england)

' if he can't drive with a broken back, at least he can polish the fenders... '

[serpentskiirt]

[serpentskiirt]

[serpentskiirt]

[serpentskiirt]