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Elizabeth. 26 years old, lover of words, of meanings, of feelings and pains and loves and losses and everything-in-between. I am a dreamer first and a realist second. I love and I hate and more-and-more-and-more!, and I hope to continue this proud tradition so long as it steals me away from the long reach of apathy.

I feel deeply, and passionately, and strongly, and I am sufficiently stubborn that this will always be the case.

Taste the Blood

It’s strange, right? It only bleeds
because you let it. You want it. You love
the way it stains your tongue and coats your teeth
the answers it whispers to the smack of your lips
into the nape of your shivering neck with that fluid
sound like a lazy laugh hollow like
the bones of a broken bird because
some days, maybe, it pays to be broken.

Taste it, girl. You’ve found
your opioid distraction and, coquettish, discovered
ambrosia; your elixir of life
loss, lost: you aren’t lost. Howl, little one
one more time into your pillow
nuzzle and
tear, somewhere else, then; I don’t care. But stop
the lies: I’m tired of your lies. There’s no room
in our world for illusion and delicacy
is a vestige of a game you abandoned
long ago. Do you hear that, girl?
It’s the pounding of your heart.
Relish its inconstancy. The ephemeral is beautiful
not because it is, but instead because, soon
it will not be. And remember your heart, child
will always betray. It belies with pleasure
the death inside. Give me your heart— that is a rapture you know
I will never betray.
Now speak to me of hope. That feathered beast
that lingered for a season, until the nearest storm
flittering capriciously elsewhere— everywhere
but here — it left
its proudest perch long bare.

Shudder into me, instead. Shelter is for the weak. Take
take, take my hand and taste
the blood welling behind your eyes
is freedom. The darkest day is neither
here nor there. You have worry enough
for today and tomorrow
may or may not come
to me, you little lost, mewling
wolf and drink, if only because
the new blood tastes infinitely
sweeter than the old and especially
when the company is true to form.

2 weeks ago
4 notes

The Caged Beast

The caged beast
is not all flutter and pomp
though it has those at hand
on a whim
it is wire-thread wisp serpentine teeth digging
into the bars and wide porcelain claws ripping
them apart with a groaning
unsteady jaw belching fire and a tireless grip
on my heart

it will be free
rings each strained beat
too soon, too soon screams
the ache in my ribs cracking
beneath the pressure and melting
under the heat

too soon, I cry
or not enough— never

I am

3 months ago
3 notes



No im done





No im done




(Source:, via onerouslydazed)

4 months ago
111,720 notes
Why can’t I try on different lives, like dresses, to see which one fits best?

Collecting hearts is pretty pointless
if you’re not gonna shoot the moon.

4 months ago
0 notes

Because It Was

i miss the feeling
of fighting back

it was
a feeling

i miss
i miss

4 months ago
5 notes

Wag, stupid.

The state of the world is more
or less degraded
invaded by the pervasive tightening hold
of men whose quest has turned
from the pursuit of truth and lofty things
to the greed to feed their hungering need
for glimmering dreams; a fetid beast hewn of gold
schemed by devious fiends to fill the void
in so many once-hallowed
hollowed out souls devoid of hope

You’re fed up, I know
but here’s the deal:
if you should choose to undo
the many follies we have chosen
and overthrow the metal beast to which so many
lost folk are shamelessly beholden
it’s just a simple matter of standing strong
and banding together
transcending the nether
and circumstantial brethren kneeling
to the miasmic tethers and binding fetters
of now-or-never know-no-better worldly desire

I don’t know if you will or whose will
is stronger or at least
strong enough to conquer and claim
the ordained right to rule must be either
bought or earned and are you willing
to expend your soul on such a purchase?
If you are then I fear you’ll wind up just like them
and if not, I’m unsure that anyone is quite that good anymore
but I know the majority will only see
what the chosen few have chosen to show ‘em
(if only the tail were a little smarter, hmm?)
oh well. So
wag, stupid
wax lucid and bow
to the overwhelming power which
you so zealously enlisted

It’s time to make the bed in which
you lie (or)
down with your dogs at their appointed time
close your eyes and abide
the stench and itch of their ever-present drenching grime
embrace the dig of metal embedded
by the choke collar pulling tight about
your wringing neck
just accept
the Lethe mud you are fed and be content
to lead the life to which
by the leash you are led.

4 months ago
2 notes


(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ~『✧~*ABOUT YOU*~✧』
1. Are you more feminine or masculine?
2. Are you tall or short?
3. What’s your favorite color?
4. What do you love about yourself?
5. What’s your greatest flaw?
6. Do you see yourself differently than other people describe you?
7. What are you really, really good at?
8. What’s something you’re bad at, but love?
9. What’s something people have tried to force you to do?
10. How do you spend your free time?
11. Describe the way you dress in one sentence.
12. Have you ever gotten your nails professionally painted?
13. What is the most insulting thing anyone has said to you?
14. Favorite game?
15. What color is your hair?
16. Do you believe in god?
17. Is men’s rights a thing?
18. Does love really exist?
19. Can science explain everything, eventually?
20. Are we raised into what we love, or do we come to love it based on how we were raised?
21. How do you feel about the school system?
22. Do you believe in fate/destiny?
23. What is art?
24. Do we define ourselves, or does our past?
25. What happens after we die?
26. Do humans matter--tiny specs on a floating piece of rock in a solar 27. system in a galaxy in an infinite universe?
28. Is there good in everyone?
29. Does apathy really exist?
29. Is human life only valuable because our society makes it?
30. How do you feel about society, the vague “they” blamed for everything?
31. What gender do you prefer?
32. What’s the first thing you notice about someone?
33. Could you love someone you found ugly?
34. Favorite hair color?
35. Favorite eye color?
36. Ideal height?
37. Describe, personality-wise, what your ideal boy/girlfriend would be like?
38. Describe, appearance-wise, what your ideal boy/girlfriend would be like?
39. What do you look for--brains or looks?
40. Could you fall in love online?
41. How much of an age cap can you handle?
42. How would you introduce yourself on a blind date?
43. Could you forgive a cheater?
44. Is lying about something serious as bad as cheating?
45. Right now, you could call the person you like/love (if you aren’t dating/engaged/married already), or show up at their front door, and just confess or kiss them or whatever. What’s stopping you?
4 months ago
207,776 notes

Who am I? I’ve lost count.

2 weeks ago
1 note

Omigosh guise! This is super crazy and I’m gonna post it everywhere. Our just here and FB. Whatever.

I got my first legendary, Queen of the Blackmarsh, out of a COMMON PACK WOT!? I’m so stoked. She’s beautiful, and way, way better than my silly ickle Ogre I. Weeeewt.

4 months ago
1 note

When girls call their boyfriends “daddy”




Sure. Agreed.

Unless he’s actually a father. Then it’s really quite endearing.

(Source: mcdicken, via onerouslydazed)

4 months ago
149,090 notes

Band Together.

And stand up for what is right. Stand against bullying.

Because no FPS gamer should be judged by the weapons they wield, or the tactics they employ. Except spawn campers. They suck.

Okay, okay, wait. I’m actually being serious. It’s totally ridiculous to be cussed out for knifing, or laughed at for akimbo Scorps. It’s a game. For fun. Don’t we have enough prejudice and conflict IRL? Chillax, brah. Just have a good time.

4 months ago
4 notes

I Touched a Tree

I didn’t like it. Suddenly
my arm caught on fire and
it felt like pins and needles and
papercuts covered
in concentrated Stinging Nettle
oil slathered all over
my skin is burning. Red
and inflamed pinprick accuracy
on steroids my skin.
is. burning.

It didn’t start until I walked away
forgetting all about the tree on which
I was setting pretty lights and
candy canes and thinking
life was great and everything
was working out just fine but I suppose
this was a very important reminder

that even trees don’t want
to be forgotten. That’s what I get
for touching the prickles
of tender needles so soft
so sharp and I was delicate
but swift and this is the price, maybe,
the price I pay
for walking away.

4 months ago
3 notes
The City Mouse & The Country Mouse: A Hipster Aesopimal Fable


The City Mouse & The Country Mouse

Several years after graduation, City Mouse got a message on Facebook from her best friend from high school, Country Mouse (who actually lived in a suburb). More out of a sense of obligation than anything else, City Mouse friended her.

When City Mouse was back in her hometown to visit her…


4 months ago
206 notes