bunniereaper

[bunniereaper]

yes.

lake 101123

taken a bunch of lake photos over the last couple of weeks think these are almost there but probably wrong

[bunniereaper]

Scorched 2.0

Elena Bonaparte

A birth to the screams of a girl who has to many children, She works hard for herself and only slightly for her burdens. Her love will never feel pure. It isn't.

An education from dirt scholars and the glowing box on my mothers mantle, they tell me to work hard. I'm gifted but what happens when I can't continue? I hate wasted efforts.

A decade of pealing the skin off to satisfy the vultures, no matter that I liked the first one and the peeling makes me cold, they are starving.

The "medication" from the gas station down the way, burning my words, yet the two year old bottles on my microwave mock me. Maybe on day, I'll love myself enough to take them again.

Letters littering the mailbox with whispers of a future. They collect dust with the gas bill on the kitchen table and I can't fathom why paper should elicit such fear.

The fear is mounting. It's in every sip I take and every breath that fills these fragile lungs and soon I'll wither in the wind like they said I would.

"But there is hope!" if you have the luxury to believe such things.

We have Angels and they hover above us with a blanket of eyes. Ethereal Beings that sing to me promises of happiness and freedom.

Their words burrow into my heart and it aches all the more with the knowing that a frog in the pond has more fulfillment to these promises than I'd ever know what to do with.

Angels with fiery wings and hot breath.

"Be not afraid..."

Their breath means to warm me and their wings to guard, but I only feel scorched and I'm tired of the smell of burnt hair.

[bunniereaper]

It's absolutely insane to me that people are out here making thirst traps like this. Reminiscent of the sister in Boy in the Striped Pajamas. She was a Nazi smpethyzer because she thought the one was hot. Smh.

The psy op is still going

[bunniereaper]

Scorched

by Elena Bonaparte

A birth to the screams of a girl who has too many children,

She works hard for herself and only slightly for her burdens.

An education from dirt scholars and the glowing box on my mothers mantle, they tell me to work hard. I'm gifted.

A belly full on community scrambled boxes and spare empathy, their eyes show pity and a glimmer of self satisfaction. Their halos must be heavy.

A decade of pealing skins off to satisfy the crows, no matter that I liked the first one and the peeling makes me cold, they are starving.

The "medication" from the gas station down the way, and the two year old bottles on my microwave. Maybe on day, I'll deserve to take them again.

Letters littering the mailbox with whispers of a future. They collect dust with the gas bill on the kitchen table Why give attention to something you can't change.

The box of wires that bring the hope (and only that) of money, and missed moments. I'm willing to give my life. I'm dying anyway.

But there is hope, she tells me. My country has Angels and they love me.

Ethereal Beings that sing to me promises of freedom

and songs of a future I so desperately wish to kiss.

She tells me my country has Angels with fiery wings and ever-seeing eyes.

Their breath means to warm me and their wings to guard, but I only feel scorched and I'm tired of the smell of burnt hair.

Pls give me feedback. This is my first poem I've written in years.

[bunniereaper]

"Dead is dead and the animals will always smell it "

[bunniereaper]

"Sex work is real work, being a landlord isn't"

Seen in Porto, Portugal

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“you can disagree with mitch mcconnell and still wish him well” i wish he would have died right there on camera in front of america that shit would have been fire and i think what the country really needs right now for healing

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The lips could use more work but its getting better!

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My code is to be consumed...

[bunniereaper]

[bunniereaper]

Says explain badly but they nailed it