An Alphabetized List of 1,027 of the Prettiest... →
Scratchy black, not squeaky white
Sometimes I don’t want to wash the smell of you off of me because it implies a clean slate. I don’t want to erase what we have with a quick slide right, Marking your finger with film, All the troubles that come with a history. I want it to ache like chalk dust in your lungs as you clap it out, Hard to get rid of and lingering Like me.
Visible Children →
I’m not saying you’re wrong for supporting the movement but it is VERY important to have a better understanding of the situation before being swayed by one powerful video.
My body is a dead language and you pronounce each word perfectly.– Unrequited Love Poem by Sierra DeMulder (via myprivateopera)