quillangel:

be passive. they try to stitch my mouth closed, stabbing the needle & thread in and out so i am volatile no longer. i gasp like a girl drowning, but i force words up my throat & spit them all out, daggers in search of places to bury themselves. what they don’t know is i’ve always hidden inside my body a tempest made of magnificence & fury.

be hidden. sometimes i hear their voices hissing my name like a curse, whispering at me to blend away into the shadows — a place fit for what they call a porcelain girl. to become a shadow myself; wherever, whenever, a ghosting act performed with stilted grace. i know they want me to forget my own face, but my memory is like steel & will never break.

be tolerant. they tie strings around my wrists and call me their little puppet. i step out of line & they’ll dangle me out dry for the vultures circling overhead. every time, i’ll break free & run, run, but there’ll always be wolves high off a chase or sharks hungry for a taste of my flesh. but you can bite a string for so many times until it breaks, so i learn to hone my teeth like a blade.

be pretty. they adorn me in pearls for the passersby so they coo at the sight of me. no man wants a woman who can do more than he can, so make use of that little doll face. nobody likes a girl who’s angry & passionate & unlovely, so soften up & close that mouth. careful, i’m an uncut gemstone masquerading as a girl. i’m covered in sharp edges all over behind that glittering smile.

— n.s.

(via katykuddlez)

writingsforwinter:

I’ll take your many breakdowns and raise you my own sadness,

but the cards, in the end, are merely unplayable.

I’ve given you so many chances, the way a python

uncurls from a neck to give its prey room

to believe it will find air again.

The joke is that my own loyalty

is so like a death sentence

that it’s almost a turn on for me.

The joke is that anything painful

is what I’ll undress for.

And in the end it was true, too much crush

and too much glass.

And you can love someone

but still find a way to hate them.

And you can try to rewrite the story

but instead destroy the ending.

(via writingsforwinter)