navy blue lace thong

source.

in your polar bear paws,
i don't know if i should feel like a cub, or a seal.

the stray cats fight then have crazy make up sex

source.

looney.
infected.
lost.
alone.
scratches
front lobe
of brain
through nasal passage.
fingernail.
pinky finger.
vapid.
friends.
murder.
a culture of bacteria.
conquers.
skin cells.
kill.
fresh breath crystals.
liar.
shit eater's grin.
missing organs.
missing blood.
missing.
mv.
matt.
matthew.
motherfucker.
masturbating with sandpaper.
laughs.
oooowwww.
vaginal ovens.
baking.
battered chicken pieces.
in pussy juice.
sizzling.
sssssssss.
give birth.
miscarriage.
eat.
the fetus.
leftover.
period blood.
vampire bags.
squeeze.
pulp.
drink.
tampon tea.
with
vodka.
aaaahhhhh.
make money.
get rich.
fall in love.
marriage.
fails.
failure.
grim.
smile.
take family photo.
not good enough.
me.
sleepy.
sassy yawns.
white light.
hallucinate.
repent.
dead.
repeat.
life.
wait.
start over again.
i'm confused.

"i mean like why did they have to wear ski masks? they dressed like islamic terrorist from the 1970's. maybe they wouldn't have gotten whipped if they didn't."

photo source.

watching daytime talk show tv:

kitty boner + kitty vagina + camera = (insert rape sounds here)

i'm watching.

captivated.

sucking a bannana.

stroking my dick.

mixing it up with my pussy.

through the nylon fabric of my granny panties.

that way i can't get charged with the double:

beastyality

and

pedophilia.

underwear project returning next week.

photo source

underwear inspired lit returns.

and to whoever got to my blog using the keyword search term, "pussyshots in wal-mart," much love. 

Dia De Los Muertos.

photo source 

Walking around a cemetery with my hood up, when the sun turns orange as it gets ready to go to sleep, I sit down and rest my back on a worn out tombstone that says, "mother, sister, and child."

I forget why I'm here, but I'm not afraid.

Just tired.

Sleepy.

I pull a flask of scotch out of the breast pocket of the brown denim jacket, which is frayed at the cuffs, and take a pull.

I don't know when they arrived, but they are here:

Skeletons wearing dust covered suits, and tattered color faded dresses.

Smoking cigarettes.

Playing cards.

Reading yellowed paperbacks as the wind carries the smoke out of their chests.

We are all in a circle.

Just passing time, and curing boredom.

I pass the flask into the stained bony fingers next to me, and someone tosses me a light.

"Thanks."

Staring off into the distance.

Looking at nothing in particular.

Just humming funeral songs in spanish.

Observing two of the younger skeletons making out without any tongues, feeling each others rib cages and pelvic bones.

Pulling blades of burnt sienna grass out of the ground, and scattering it across my sneakers.

Thinking about my true love.

A skeleton sits next to me indian style wearing a lavender floral patterned party dress with a hole on the hip takes a pull from the flask, and passes it back to me.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Na. Well...maybe. I don't know, it's complicated and confusing."

"Isn't it always? That wasn't a very good question, but I got a better one: Are you in love?"

"Yes. Yes too all of the above...actually I don't know, maybe I'm just lonely. Or both."

The skeleton wearing a lavender floral party dress with the hole on the hip leans in closer, puts her arms around me, and rests her skull on my shoulder.

"Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. It will be okay. I can't guarantee that, but it'll work out one way or another. You're not going to be alone forever. However, it isn't going to change in a day. So don't think about it right now. Just have some fun, and let it happen."

Her earthworm perfume slows my mind enough to allow me to notice each and every passing second.

"Thank you. Seriously, thank you."

She tries to smile but can't, while two skeletons in black suits pour out a 40 into fast food cups in the waning light.

"You're welcome."

I get up, walk two graves over, and pull the bouquet of pink roses out of the white vase sitting on top of the granite tombstone.

I come back and hand them to her, then finish what's ever left in the flask.

One of the flowers gets stuck in her empty eye socket, and we both laugh.

"I can't smell them, but I remember their smell. Succulent. And sweet. Thank you. They are beautiful. That was really nice. I see flowers around here all the time, but never think about their smells. When you don't have a nose, it's easy to forget that smells still exist. Thank you for jogging my memory. For making me notice. You're really nice. Never forget that. Okay? Never forget that you still exist after you die;you just exist in other people."
 
"You're welcome. And okay. That is something I will always try to remember."

She pushes the bouquet into her face one more time, before laying it on the ground, then takes a cig out of her pack, lights it, and places it in between my lips.

I inhale.

The last ray of light disappears behind the horizon, as the sky starts to change from red to pink to navy blue.

"You ready?"

"Yeah."

The skeleton wearing a lavender floral pattern party dress with a hole on the hip sinks her teeth into my arm, as the rest of the circle puts down their drinks, and encloses in on me.

As the day ends, I remember.

this blog shouted me out four months ago.

so i'm going to shout this blog cause it is really cool: http://winthestars.tumblr.com/

talking to myself

i will break a pool stick in half, then start to beat myself with it in front of you and your friends, who are drinking 40's on the cement stoop.

screaming at the top of lungs between the whooshes and smacks of the swings and impacts.

"AM I MAKING ANY FUCKING SENSE NOW?

HOW ABOUT NOW?

OR NOW?"

painting bruises on my body, just to make you upset.

just to convince you of something i'm not even sure of.
 
the sun will rise in a couple of hours, and tomorrow will become today.