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i like to say that it wasn’t ever actually love
“i was just confused”
but i know deep down when searching for rings,
i seek out your birthstone far before my own
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the sun is a ginger
Sea. Swallow Me,
For I lie at bay;
With my knees tucked and buckled,
I am blind.
Salt surfaces my eyes.
The shimmering sun:
All that keeps me content;
For he is beauty.
Sea. Swallon Me,
For my Sun lies at bay.
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an
addiction never quite suffices
that
addiction never quite suffices
my
addiction never quite suffices
with this anti-mythological narrative—my thoughts and actions pertaining to that of a world in which i only exist—i pray.
i pray for the skin which has been inked by time; pricked and prodded; lusted for.
i wish to be the only one you’ve lusted for.
please hate (only) me.
for the love of god, let me be the arrogant; self-sufficient; condescending; bastard you idolized then.
let those late-night conversations about booking it up north and cutting contact with the bible belt dissolve into nothing but the ashes of my fucking clothes you burned.
let me hate you.
an
app(ealing)alling thought process
an
-other drink(s!!) i couldn’t wait to waste my paycheck on
an
-d the cocktail i drowned my sorrows in
i was just like you—
i fucking hate you.
with this anglicized version of myself (you never were a genius when it came to correct grammar),
i bequeath to you my kidney (yours are in dire distress and i sympathize with them),
my lungs (you’re a stupid fucking pot head and if you outlive me i’ll come back from the dead and kill you myself—don’t show your whore-infested face at my funeral),
and my heart (you have never known which direction you should shove your love—you are so full of it that it swallows you entirely; you are engulfed in nothing but feelings that you have no outlet for—so you throw them at anyone who is willing to fuck your body. a body that was surely created in His image; corroded by beauty and made specifically for eyes that belong to only my face. and if said body is a temple, i pray for Him to allow me to ruin it; to ruin you.)
just fucking hate me.
please.
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she f on my t till i willz
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when gerard way sang ‘i’m just a man, i’m not a hero.’ i’m welcome to the black parade he couldn’t have told a bigger lie
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Everything hits different at 3 am especially my chemical romance
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When I listen to another band/playlist without mcr for an extended period of time I feel like I’m cheating on them
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reblog if you
like dnd
like audrey hepburn
like fangoria
like harry houdini
like croquet
can't swim
can't dance
don't know karate
are never gonna make it
don't wanna make it
just wanna
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gerard way you son of a bitch
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BULLETS >>>
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and every song is amazing
three stages of listening to frank ieros music:
- oh yeah i relate to this!
- wait why is he moaning
- oh yeah i relate to this!
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“I’m gay” “I’m straight” okay?? I’m trying?? I’m trying?? to let you know just how much you mean to me. As snow falls on desert sky until the end of everything
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you’re like an itch that refuses to cease existence despite how many times i’ve scratched you.
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BUSTTTT
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THIS SHOW WAS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING AND MY THROAT IS STILL HURTING FROM SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS
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✨So much (for) Birmingham ✨
📸 Elliott Ingham
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