| 
the christmas present that night, I forced myself to prove some sort of deranged love to you
it was late, or early, depending on perspective
it was three in the morning on the day
a fat man is supposed to fall through your chimney
you were sick, my thoughts were plagued with guilt
I slaved away like a child in China
in my kitchen, the table was a garden
sprouting with thread, scissors and pins
the machine I used was less perilous than those in factories
but as my eyes drooped low with sleep
the needle dashed across the green fabric you asked for
and onto my thumb, adorning the soft wool
with a harsh drop of blood
(it hurt, but so did you, therefore I would be okay)
I made a promise to myself that night:
if I couldn’t finish that blanket,
I didn’t truly love you anymore
but I pushed myself farther, in and out
with stolen embroidery thread and motivation
that night, I stitched my heart into a piece of fabric
and you rejected it several hours later i wrote that a while ago. i don't know why i'm putting it up now, really. i hate hate hateeee the way i feel right now. guhh. i need sleep. 
i'm really uninspired lately and it's making me sad. and possibly vice versa. |
| |
| not like anyone really comes on here anymore, but here are a bunch of pictures.
by the way, i'm sure this doesn't need to be said, but unless you're one of the people in these pictures, don't steal my shit. k thnxxxx.
film:
digital:
atmosphere:
asian and a maternity dress:
|
| |
| tomorrow is my birthday.
cool. |
| |
| i gotta give the baby rats away soon. like really soon. so if you're interested, leave me a comment or call me if you've got my number.
oh and about six of them are bald, so if you're into that kinda thing...
photossss:
this isn't actually a polaroid, i cheated.
swimming is killing my hair. |
| |
| 
ironically, i feel really insecure today.
|
| |
