scribbling my heart unto the skin of your eyes

I spin around words and sentences, swim through thoughts and pretenses and under all that muck and streams of plastic consciousness, there is me.

Most adult children of toxic parents grow up feeling tremendous confusion about what love means and how it’s supposed to feel. Their parents did extremely unloving things to them in the name of love. They came to understand love as something chaotic, dramatic, confusing, and often painful—something they had to give up their own dreams and desires for. Obviously, that’s not what love is all about.

Loving behavior doesn’t grind you down, keep you off balance, or create feelings of self-hatred. Love doesn’t hurt, it feels good. Loving behavior nourishes your emotional well-being. When someone is being loving to you, you feel accepted, cared for, valued, and respected. Genuine love creates feelings of warmth, pleasure, safety, stability, and inner peace.

Susan Forward, Toxic Parents, p381

(via yangirechild)

(Source: fromonesurvivortoanother, via daftwithoneshoe)

oh terrible youth

gone are the days where prayers were whispered through a mouthful of concrete

cracked teeth spitting pleas and praise to the heavens

I have lost faith in being saved

pillow safe and drool slick, this thick slime of shame, this splinter of doubt

oh you sinners and nonbelievers you were given the gift of ignorance 

offer me that deathless death, good god give me life

look this is a knife, this is a spike through the heart, this is a sentence that you don’t say

(these are the words that destroy us)

my palms, these measures of cruelty, this swollen flesh

of what use is suffering, of what use is this gut full of rotten fish in the pit of me

tell me oh god oh messiah oh king of my words and my heart

oh this believer can open his mouth open for so long before his tongue is dried 

give me your weight your healing oh king of kings and lord and savior of my immortal soul 

you threader of sky and sea, you creator of perfection why mold filth that roils in my skin beneath my flesh

this soul that is sick to the withering bone torn into and ravaged

oh merciful savior did I not cry loud enough did I not beg with sweetness

or was my suffering for your pleasure 

was this all this this breaking of bone of torn ligaments and crushing misery 

oh god of my gentle childhood, turbulent anchor of my thoughts

where are you when I need you most oh wise one oh creator of me

was I not worth saving 

was I not worth the mercy of your touch

this dirty mangled thing

my knees were torn from the drag of linoleum, of holy wood and sacrament 

the wine on my lips your body on my tongue 

is there nothing that can make me clean again?

oh beloved figment of my childhood 

be real again so I may believe in your salvation 

(oh please I can’t pretend much longer) 

Why did I have to be strong? Why did I have to shed blood? Why did I throw away my humanity? Why did I have to throw away my weakness? I shouldn’t have used an uncontrollable power.

(Source: kirishimma, via naatefick)


I was burned last year, SoCal barely a fall and no winter to speak of, don’t you do that again.

(Source: pythonprincen)

I’m lonely. What kind of loneliness? Every kind. I feel disconnected. Abandoned. As always. Repetition. So what, my love? So what? At first, I just wanted to run away. Now I have no where else to run to, nothing to run from. I don’t belong anywhere, I don’t want to go anywhere, I just want to be happy.

—Daul Kim (via wordsthat-speak)

(via wordsthat-speak)