glory! : ville valo beautiful man

washer

Goodnight my love Remember me as you fall to sleep Fill your pockets with the dust and the memories That rises from the shoes on my feet I won't be back here Though we may meet again I know it's dark outside Don't be afraid Everytime I ever cried from fear Was just a mistake that I made Wash yourself in your tears And build your church On the strength of your faith Please Listen to me Don't let go Don't let this desperate moonlight leave me With your empty pillow Promise me the sun will rise again I too am tired now Embracing thoughts of tonight's dreamless sleep My head is empty My toes are warm I am safe from harm...

Thursday, December 14, 2023

ville valo beautiful man

otherwordly beautiful. i wish i could achieve that standard of luminosity.

been thinking of restarting my novel. i feel alone here.

i want more tattoos. my dad will kill me if he found out. i wish my parents loved me like they should. i wish i was a part of a tribe. i had a beautiful time at my boyfriends familys christmas dinner. ill give him his little gift tomorrow maybe. i hope he loves it. i hope he doesnt read this so if youre him look away:

i got him a chanel nail polish. immortelle. lilac, as he likes it. and the top coat for it to last long. he used to do his nails like that but they got damaged. lavander is his favorite color.

i feel so alone. i feel like im crawling on the floor looking for a home. i feel at home alone, but i want a home outside. i feel at home in his arms. i feel at home listening to razorblade romance. he caresses me softly like he would a small animal, like a rabbit or a young cat. he has large hands but a very soft touch. he cups my face and they feel warm. but i have no home.

im afraid hell leave me for a girl with beautiful long hair and clear, bronzed skin. someone he can go out to dinner with. someone whose body is unmarked, maybe has an upper lobe earring and wears a lot of white or pink. someone who uses denim and clean sneakers. i fear im too much for him. i fear hes too much for me. im afraid hes ashamed of me, that he judges me. it eats me alive. i feel impure and gluttonous and evil. i feel like a hedonist, dirty and soft limbed. soft stomach.

i feel so ashamed of who i am. i wish i didnt. i guess its what i get.

No comments:

Post a Comment

sylvia plath, the bell jar

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

Psalm 18: 6-11

In my distress I called upon the Lord, And cried out to my God; He heard my voice from His temple, And my cry came before Him, even to His ears. Then the earth shook and trembled; The foundations of the hills also quaked and were shaken, Because He was angry. Smoke went up from His nostrils, And devouring fire from His mouth; Coals were kindled by it. He bowed the heavens also, and came down With darkness under His feet. And He rode upon a cherub, and flew; He flew upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness His secret place; His canopy around Him was dark waters And thick clouds of the skies.