And the sirens cry loudly. I’m reflexive. I cry loudly. You put my picture in framing. Hung forever, left me strangling. Called me baby. And with your nature reversed and our home as our cage, you caved and you asked “is this coming of age?” As you climbed out the window, your face cold as stone, you lifted the towel. Your wrist showed the bone. Held my breath in the ER, I swayed as I stood. I tried to stay steady and protect you the best that I could. And you pretended to sleep the entire ride home but I heard you crying when you felt alone.
LEFT ME STRAAAANGLING
CALLED ME BAAAABY
me: *has an opinion*
me: *realizes that my opinion is a result of my limited world view*
me: *stays in my lane*
THIS POST IS SO IMPORTANT
"Don’t fuck with spirits" they say.
"Don’t summon things," they say.
"Don’t play with ouija boards" they say.
How is any hard-working necromancer supposed to get anything done around here?
Can’t trust the news.
Can’t trust the government.
Can’t trust twitter.
Can’t trust tumblr.
this is the police. open up. tell me something about yourself, don’t be afraid