max-reblogger

[max-reblogger]

Poetic Ramblings

I'm not sure I want to love. I know I do, but am I sure, am I certain? I know I've loved before. I know it hurt. I know I kind of liked the pain sometimes. I know I shouldn't like pain. Being a man the way I am I feel like every time I love someone it has to be my own. I never keep it my own, but I never tell them either. At least not on purpose. I talk about my love to everyone but my love. Part of this is because when I love a man, I could not be with them because either I am not really a man, or I really am a man. The boy's perception of me will either hurt me or make it impossible for them to feel hurt for me, the way I feel hurt for them. And when I love a woman or anyone who is not a man, I cannot love them because I am not really a man or because they are not a man either. I will disappoint them, or I will be unable to accept that I am scared to disappoint them. I have been trained to love men and only men, but not as a man. I have been trained to love as a woman, to be a woman. I am not a woman but when that was all your life and, in some sense, still is it is hard to know how to love as a man in any capacity. I know I feel love and I like love, and I understand love and I crave to love, I crave to be loved, but I also know that I have never been loved and loved the lover. I have never known someone who loved me. I have only known love for one person, and they did not love me. Being a man as I am I know I would be terrified to admit that I loved someone to that someone because either they won't love me, or I won't be able to act on it and I will hurt them. I will be too scared to love them in public because I am not supposed to love them or because I am not supposed to love them as I am. And yet, I write so much about being loved and being in love and how I know others may want to hide their love of me and how I would not. It's lie, but it also isn't because I would want to love them in public I just wouldn't. I don't know if I understand love the way others do but I am always thinking about it, and those who do understand love seem to like how I write about love, even when I write badly about it. It could be because it's relatable and realistic or could be because it's so fictional. I know one day I will love and be loved openly, and it won't really matter that I am a man in the way that I am, but I'm not there yet, so I'll keep thinking about love and my confusing perception of it because it's poetic to do so and I like poetry.

[max-reblogger]

'Mama, love me.' - Poem #139

'Mama, love me. My mama.'

Cut and snip the feathers, Break and crack the bones, Rip and pry and tear at the wings, Make them stubs on my back, Once a dove in the sky, Now a flightless bird stuck in your nest.

'Mama?'

I'm not holy enough to be an angel, I am broken and fallen, A dark tar on the earth, But I am your child, You love me... you're supposed to love me, But if I am this evil you've learnt, Why have you seen me as a blessing for the longest time.

'Where did my mama go? Where did she go?'

Blood stains the floor, Mine... or yours... I don't know, I'm scared, scared to see you see me, I don't want you to know me, I just want you to love me, But it's not the same anymore, You cut my wings, Because you thought my change was wrong, It's what you were taught, I don't know if I'm mad.

'I didn't mean to mama... I want my mama.'

I should be mad, Because you're the one who made me a fallen angel, I never left who I was, I still am me, The shadows behind your eyes, The whispers we can both hear from the shadows, They tell you, then you repeat, They made you think, If only you heard the other voices I did, They speak to you just the same, But their words never break through.

'I love my mama.'

Stuck in your nest, Because you didn't want me to show the world, Who your child became, But you don't want me here either, A poison to the other eggs, But you couldn't let me fly, So, if they are like me, They won't get to fly either.

'What is wrong with me, mama?'

Cut and snip the feathers, Break and crack the bones, Rip and pry and tear at the wings, Make them stubs on my back, I'd rather fall than never fly.

'Mama, love me. My mama.'

[max-reblogger]

I'll Wear a Dress - Poem #138

I'll wear a dress for you, I know it's easier this way, And I know you'll love me better, Besides, dresses are pretty, they've always made me look good, I can be your boy in a dress, Because then it's like you love a girl.

I'll be your wife if you like, And let you inside me where you want, It's not so bad, that feels good too, I can be your husband as a wife, Because then it's like you love a woman.

You'd never ask me to act this way for others, But in public you don't love me, we're friends, When we're alone in the kitchen your arms wrap around me, You whisper, 'I love you, but be my wife', For a moment I smile because you love me, Then I move away and change, Transform into what you say you want, Then we fuck, You fuck me hard, It hurts a little but not enough to be called pain, 'I love you too, you know', You finish and drop against me, You cry and so do I.

Why are we like this, You and I? I could blame this all on you, You're too scared to love me as a man, You don't want to be shunned, It's not a sin to love someone who acts like a woman, is it? But then why do I let you do this? Why don't I fight or push or leave? I am too scared to be a man, I don't want to be shunned all the time, It's not a sin to be a man if I act like a woman, is it?

I'll wear a dress, I'll be your wife, But one day when you wrap your arms around me, You whisper, 'I love you', you breathe, 'but be my wife', You stopped, you hesitated, you let your love sit longer than before, Instead of moving away I lean against you, Our eyes lock and I don't see a man, I see a child, tears in his eyes and apologies on his tongue, He was taught this was wrong, there is no other way to love, I know you see something similar, A child, red eyes, but no tears, silenced voice, He was taught this was wrong, but most of all he was not real, There is no other way to be.

The images vanish and we see each other again, Grown, with the ghosts of our lonely selves hidden in our chests, I go to leave and change, but you hold me, 'Never again' You say 'I love you and only you', I feel real.

[max-reblogger]

My Lord Knows I Love You - Poem #137

I sit with you in church, Distance between us and gazes avoidant, There is too much unholy desire in our minds, I want to touch you, to pleasure you, In a soul wrenching way, I want to tear out your heart and add a piece of mine to it, So we feel as one, I want to suck on your blood and drink until I can no longer thirst, I want to love you so intensely it is abnormal, unnatural, Two men, too different, We could not be in the eyes of the lord, Whom we love so dearly, But my Lord does know I love you.

I wonder if you confess to sins as I do, 'He is so beautiful, so magnetic, You made him so, So how can you hate me for wanting him?' I pray to our Lord every day, That he will change you into someone ugly or unkind, Someone unlovable, undesirable, Someone unlike you, Do you pray the same?

I hate to assume that you could yearn for me in such a way, But I feel when you are looking at me, And it is always for too long, too undressing, To be in the way a friend would look upon me.

Does God truly desire for us to hide this passion, To suffocate it until there is nothing left, Until we cannot love each other nor anyone else, Are we destined to live alone when we long for each other so? Surely not.

I glance to you, As if you could hear my thoughts and answer my questions, Our eyes meet and something inside me burns, We try to move away, create a larger space, But I look back and so do you, How can I not love you?

[max-reblogger]

My Idol - Poem #136

You are divine, Where is your altar? Where are your followers? I should love you like I love my God, Something untouchable, but oh so desirable.

I kneel before you, Prepared to kiss the ground you walk on, You lift my chin and I kiss you instead, It is peaceful here, Bellow you in a way, But still tangled together.

I love you, my idol, To see you in such a way is a sin, But how else can I love you, Is this not what God intends, You are not luring me away from him, Only giving me more reason to thank him.

You are so divine, But not rageful, You are so gentle with me, Despite my pathetic form, You are perfection, And I am human, I love you, my god.

[max-reblogger]

Sunlit Room - Poem #135

I see a couple shrouded in darkness through the rainy window, They dance together and their outlines bleed, As if they are the shadows themselves, I stare at them along with the masses of people, But they look in disdain and hatred, How could these dark people dare to love one another so openly? They'll tarnish the children's minds, they cannot be, They whisper, While I look upon them longingly, I yearn for such a love, A freeness to express, They are beautiful and they don't hide, My gaze shifts to yours, Far across the room, Why don't you love me like that? I wonder, why am I only yours when not even the stars shine on us, I haunt the darkness of your mind, Your impure desire, You love me there, But here, in the light, even in the shadow, You wouldn't dare stand so close to me, While the couple dances in the rain you walk away, I wish you'd love me like they do, I wish you'd love me in a sunlit room.

[max-reblogger]

Background painting & Color Key by Léa Pinto

[max-reblogger]

wait question do yiu have any more werewolf deku drawings

all I have is just this mess of doodles

[max-reblogger]

Being white trash AND a writer is crazy. Like wym half the time I speak perfect English, spitting rhymes and metaphors, but the other half is "ain't that the one thing?" and "it don't matter."

[max-reblogger]

Art by xiaoyu huang

[max-reblogger]

Confessed - Poem #134

Soap in my mouth and it's bitter, I said too much, I said too little, I speak in random anxious bursts of unintelligible sounds, Or in sentences laced together so decoratively and tightly, That no one understands me, I have confessed my love to you so many times, I am a poet, don't you understand? I cannot love you without spilling ink onto the page, I tell you I love you, But you don't hear it, Just a friendly compliment or an artistic display of language, I cannot use my tongue to speak, Just a stained page and my broken fingers, And still you don't know, I love you, you fool.

[max-reblogger]

I Wish to be the Sea - Poem #133

The ocean waves embrace me, As if they're in love with me, Like you were in love with it. You said the ocean was your favourite, You could stare at it all day, You loved it in an unnatural way, And all I could think was, I wish I was the ocean, Then you'd love me, Like I love you. You remind me of the shore, Someone I continue to crash into and chip away at, I steal parts of you for myself because I think you're so lovely, And I wish you were mine, I pull away from you in a low tide, Because I know I'm not what you want, That I'm not good for you in the way you are for me, But I cannot control it, I always come back to you. So now I sit in the sea, Waiting for it to become a part of me, You tap on my shoulder and gently pull me up, Don't leave me just yet, you say, You are my sea and I want you to stay. You are my shore, I'm sure, I think, There is no other way for us, Your ocean and my shore.

[max-reblogger]

Human - Poem #132

Blood turns the water pink, It's pretty, I think, It reminds me of the pink indentations you left on my arms, Scratches and too strong grips of your nails, Ripping at my skin, wishing to claw through, But you're scared to, You were so desperate to see what was beneath, But too afraid to actually look.

You're pathetic in the way you treat me, Too rough to call it love, Not rough enough to call it hate, You are obsessed with me as if I am your god, Or your sin.

Perhaps that's why you shove me down in this water now, You've seen too much now that you've successfully made me bleed, You're horrified to find what I am, Human.

[max-reblogger]

Little Lucky One - Poem #131

Little lucky one, A charm I like to keep, It is all for myself but I hope you get something our of it too, You are a brave girl, unafraid to look deep, With your deep dark eyes, Bring me luck, my clover, My little lucky one.

[max-reblogger]

My Star Crossed - Poem #131

I am addicted to a tragedy, Like Romeo and Juliet, Like Orpheus and Eurydice, Like you and I, In different worlds we could be happy, But in this one we shall love each other to be torn apart, We shall grasp for one another, As the world tugs our bodies further away, We will reach and fight and pray for one another, But we cannot be, love, Not for much longer, Such short time to be happy and it is already up, I'll miss you my tragedy, my star crossed.

[max-reblogger]

Stay Until - Poem #130

But you cannot leave me, The gods shan't allow it, Stay. Stay with me til the morning rises and darkness falls to sleep, Stay with me til we know how to love each other forever, Stay with me til there is nothing left but us together, Stay with me. Let the stars know our names, As we are the ones who fought fate and lived, Let the gods remain on our side, As they couldn't bear to tear us apart, Let no mortal know that we still remain on this earth. Don't leave me, my Romeo, This shan't be our end, Let me love you until I hate you, Such simple desire, Must we be star crossed, You and I?

[max-reblogger]

I want to see a detective duo where, rather than the standard Holmes and Watson dynamic where one of them is the super-smart, super-knowledgeable, super-observant detective and the other one is the admiring everyman, we instead have the 'Sherlock' character split into two.

One half of the duo is Detective A, a person who is incredibly observant. Can look at an individual and analyse their entire appearance and deduce their personality in a matter of seconds. Expert on human behaviour, very charming when they want to be.

Has no fucking IDEA what to do with most of the information they pick up.

Suspect has mud on their boots. Doesn't look like the kind of mud they have around here. So what kind of mud does it look like? Who the fuck knows. Not Detective A, that's for sure.

They're an extrovert who spends a lot of time people watching and reading books on psychology, they're not a fucking soil technician. They can objectively see that the mud on the boots is a different texture and colour than the mud they saw outside, but that is the limit of their knowledge on the subject.

Enter Detective B. Socially anxious, faceblind, not great with social cues and literally couldn't tell you what they were wearing today unless they looked down to check, but can tell you that that mud indicates a soil composition matching that of the field where the victim's body was found. Research expert, has several degrees and spends all their free time not spent with A hanging out in their library.

A gathers information, B interprets it. Then they both make deductions based on their relevant areas of expertise.

They both contribute roughly equally to each case, but each goes around thinking (and telling everyone else) that their partner is the true detective genius while they're just the humble side-kick.

A thinks that their incredible observational skills and ability to get people to open up are just a party trick that most people could manage if they put their minds to it, while B's ability to find out about seemingly any subject is the true talent. (A has definitely decked people for making fun of B's poor social skills.)

B, meanwhile, is just waiting for the day when A realises that B's skillset can basically be outsourced to google (not actually true) while A's own detective abilities are truly unique. (People who imply that A is “the thick one” of the pair get their social media accounts mysteriously hacked and deleted.)

The two of them are essentially just halves of a complete Sherlock Holmes, but both of them are somehow convinced that they're the Watson.