190 posts
Latest Posts by oldsaints - Page 7
This was not a rattlesnake hidden in the grass, but a deadly coral snake striped with warning colors. Everything about him was a warning: If this snake bit you, you had no one to blame but yourself.
witches around the globe → new orleans the witches of new orleans are fiery, carefree creatures. they live in a city of dreams and music. nestled amongst the messy, noisy streets, the witches of new orleans give futures to anyone willing to sell them their secrets.
i. your father speaks of his youth with revelry spills his life across the kitchen table like an overturned drink your mother doesn’t speak any stories of her pre marital life come from your father’s mouth he speaks of how he tamed her saved her from a life of reckless abandon clipped her wings to keep her from flying too close to the sun but Icarus would have just as soon drowned than burned and the silence in your mother’s mouth is a saltwater darkness she does not speak up to defend herself even now, years after their divorce your father’s voice can fill a room your mother still makes space for it when your mother teaches you not to be swallowed, she is already sitting in the belly of a beast she once loved you wonder if she has grown to love the darkness like she once loved the man ii. the day you learn the importance of emergency exits is the day your heartbeat stops sounding familiar it is a stuttering tongue a trembling hand your heart beats like closing doors like your father’s fading footsteps like every plea you learn how to swallow don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, don’t – your father teaches you to be the first one to walk away leave before they realize you are not worth staying for iii. when your mother tells you not to be afraid of falling in love you do not miss the way her hands shake you wonder if they miss the handcuff weight of the ring that used to rest on that finger you wonder if you, too, will fall in love with a padlock man you begin to be wary of boys with birdcage hands they have mouths like oceans and your mother is still wringing seawater from her bones iv. you master the art of slipping away by starting small fix your body clock so you always wake up first plot escape routes like past times force your heart to beat just go, just go, just go, just – practice on the ones you love most that way, nothing can hurt you you cannot break a mangled thing and you don’t know the last time your heart sounded like a heart v. he tells you you eat like a bird you tell him your mother taught you well he laughs, and reaches for your hand you smile, and begin to slip through the cage of his fingers vi. when boys begin searching for hospital room hearts you warn them yours is a broken glass bottle they don’t care, or they don’t hear you they cut themselves on sharp tongues make fingerpaintings with the blood on their hands make it sound so beautiful you almost believe them soon, though, they will wake up with scars and blame you you leave them a bandage in the dark and don’t look back leave before they realize you are not worth scarring for vii. you see every outstretched hand as a palm preparing to drown you so you sink farther underwater and ignore the burning in your chest run your fingers over every name that has left your mouth for the last time and tell yourself you have done the right thing
the heartbreaker poem | bianca phipps (via biancaphipps)
If you want to know exactly what hell feels like, fall in love with me.
Haiku on Destructive Habits (via whispersinnthedarkk)
(via nitesuke)
he has a voice eerie like a haunted lake and he wears a white shirt that reads DARK VICTORY and sometimes when i sleep he curls up beside me this dark thin boy from the island every time he opens his mouth i hear sounds from deep within the forest
