Prose, Poetry, and spontaneous Writing



fuckyeahbipolarowl:

rebloggable for Anon <3

fuckyeahbipolarowl:

rebloggable for Anon <3

3:32 am, reblogged by drfunkadunk
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Tongues in Trees: lady-tyrell: K H A L E E S I no see but like when men call cersei (or...

peacehon:

lady-tyrell:

K H A L E E S I

no see but like when men call cersei (or any other POV women) a whore she wants them punished wants them killed because she takes great offense at it

dany is just like “yes is that the best you’ve got or can we move on with taking this city”

I feel like both…

you caught up fast.

(Source: sylphoftime)

10:47 pm, reblogged by drfunkadunk
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saucylarry:

lockmyhearticantchange:

How to gracefully deal with gay rumors.

Forever reblog.

I can not not reblog this

(Source: zulualphacharlie)

8:16 pm, reblogged by drfunkadunk
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11:02 pm, reblogged by drfunkadunk
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tagged: reasons I left BU,






Are you high on my writing style?  I can exalt whatever you want into a poem.
just ask.

Are you high on my writing style?  I can exalt whatever you want into a poem.

just ask.







I got that BOOM BOOM POW.  You want some?
Probably not, but if you want a poem, just send a topic to my ask.  I&#8217;ll make one special just for you.

I got that BOOM BOOM POW.  You want some?

Probably not, but if you want a poem, just send a topic to my ask.  I’ll make one special just for you.







You jealous of those ink scratched poems?  I&#8217;ll make you one if you ask for it. You just won&#8217;t see the ink, because I send my poems though photoshop.

You jealous of those ink scratched poems?  I’ll make you one if you ask for it. You just won’t see the ink, because I send my poems though photoshop.







on bruises

I.
Ring around the rosey, a pocketful of posies. Ashes, ashes. We all fall down!
 
II.
While twirling, I’d imagine flowers.  One rose multiplying by means of asexual reproduction into bouquets between us.  I’d watch as the wake force produced by our bodies, transformed the blush-pink petals to gray flakes in the blurred vision of my imagination until the destruction was too great to be contained.  Until it overflowed, and permeated the bonds formed by our tiny hands, forcing us down and apart.

Read More







Want a poem that will really deliver? Just request one.  Hit up my ask box, I&#8217;ll create a custom poem just for you.

Want a poem that will really deliver? Just request one.  Hit up my ask box, I’ll create a custom poem just for you.







My writing leaving you wet?  Request one that will whet your whistle

My writing leaving you wet?  Request one that will whet your whistle