Aggressively Passive. 25. Neophile. Oregonian. Navy Corpsman.
I Like Hipsters, Facial Hair, Muscles, Horses, God's Green Earth, Airplanes, Selfies, Big Trucks, Tattoos, Depressing Poetry, Puppies, and Men in Tighty Whities.
No no no, people. I’m not married. I’m gay married. There’s a huge difference (apparently).
Like we normally have much better abs and clothes and hair.
And our kids will probably read at a much higher reading level than yours. When have kids (can you hold my baby while I bench press this?). Oh, bee tee dubs, can I borrow some ovaries? We dont have those either…. #turkeybaster
Time whips through me. winter winds and skeleton’d trees.
My Immortal self unchanged. skin, eye, bone, memory, fear,
The darkness I love so well,
Clings to me. Grime on tile floors. A patch work self. I would have rid of this shell-skin cloak. But then I would be free.
Years pass. People, trees, buildings, cities, worlds,
All die. All dust.
The dust fills my lungs, they are a part of me, but I can’t see their faces, her face, in the dark.
I am still the skeleton child. Eyes peer out panes as monsters dance choke holds on the lawn.
I threw rocks at him. Goliath, Goliath. I am no David.
I could not save her.
She comes to me in dreams, singing her death rattle laugh, morphine breath, a shadow on horse back.
Save me. Save me. Save me.
But I cannot speak.
I cannot save you.
And I (the greatest grievance) cannot die with you."