I have the skin of two different boys under my fingernails.
My mother tells me to clean them out whenI realize my thighs still ache from all the ways he made me fold underneath him and maybe I like myself beingjust a little bit  dirty.
Is it wrong of me to want, darling? Is it wrong of me to leave? To live?
Today in the shower I washed you out of my hair,
but I leave my nails undone.
I sharpen my tongue. I file my teeth.
- Sade Andria Zabala, Scratches On The Back
(at The Social Cebu, Ayala Terraces)
Follow me on instagram for my paper napkin poetry series.
"Even on the good days,
he is a mountain I can’t climb.
A bridge I can’t get over.
His spine means sacrifice.
Means look at all the ways
I stretched myself out for you.
Look at all the ways it wasn’t enough.
It’s my fault for showing him
the wolves in my belly.
The moons I swallowed
until my stomach howled
from the weight of it all.
He carried carnivals
in his hands and kissed me
like he was on top of
a Ferris wheel every time.
Like he saw the world from
where he was standing.
He still loves me,
I understand,
but he is someone else’s
best poem now.

To that person I’d like to say:
I’m sorry for the stars I painted on
the inside of his eyelids.
I wanted him to see
galaxies growing through my skin.
even when he was asleep.
I miss him terribly,
and I loved him terribly, I know,
but I hope you bring the
prince in him back to life.
I’m sorry about the dragons
I left behind."

-Y.Z, my mountain boy, I hope you’re well (via rustyvoices)


He runs his hand through his hair.

"But that’s it, isn’t it?" He says. "When you love someone, you let them get away with murder.

"Even if it’s your own."


-Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #79 (via blossomfully)


Sunday vibes. @trentmitchellphoto


Scott Naismith: Cumulus Consonance

"I’m an adult, but not like a real adult"

-anyone between the ages of 18 and 25 (via prettyboystyles)