paolo roversi, be mine: everyday i fight the urge to

spitfireforhire:

  • put all my things in my car and drive to someplace vaguely deserty
  • take a bunch of xanax and zonk out while listening to a scholarly type talk about the unconscious so that i can justify what i’m doing
  • stop eating
  • make a post like this
  • be self-deprecating 100% of the time
  • stalk people…

(Source: ousion)

n/a

I want to know how many scars you have

I want to know the shape of your tongue.

I want to climb the curve of your lower back,

I want to count your vertebrae

                         your ribs

                         your fingers

                         your goose bumps,

I want to chart the topography of your anatomy 

I want to be fluent in your body language.

I want you, entire.

10 minutes

Every time I stand up everything goes black.
I’m sitting in the freezer for my break,
Running on tea and espresso shots.
I feel completely fatigue.
Trying to fast forward these next 30 hours.
My blood is slowly cooling off my rage.
I think I’ll come here more often.

when you find yourself without your help.

With jeans so tight 

you can’t cross your legs,

so you sit up right

while you’re lying in bed,

and baby I know you felt it too

tell me is there nothing I could do,

My brother says I should let it be,

because waiting is just too painful for me.