one4u2nvWhisper

American
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Spitfiregirl...I’m anxious and I can’t keep my summersalt garbage disposal from continuing it’s cycle. Stuck on repeat like the sound of a plum pit caught between the spinning blades, God they look maniacal. It’s more of a grinding kind of clatter, peanut butter hands pitter patter, some things never really matter.
1
Nov 10, 2015
The Move**Partners turned enemies turned frenemies turned long lost soul mates who never were meant to be- / You never know what you got until it finally walks out the door. And thank god for that ******* door- / If I hadn’t of walked the tightrope so clumsily maybe my peanut butter fingers would have, should have, could have grabbed a little bit better omit the fumbling…but I just kept stumbling-
12
May 23, 2015
I did**I dyed to dream the colors that deemed**
1
Oct 10, 2013
Always For The People**Sometimes when I'm in public settings I swear I can hear people screaming as loud as a sonic boom for me to ask about things they have hidden so deep beneath their skin their skeletons have run out of closets to hide in. / Except those people are empty. Sure they want you to know them, however they have no sincere intentions on ever getting to know you. So I walk past without so much as offering even a nod, but they scream louder and I'm forced to back track, and slowly I slip my skeleton key perfectly in. **
2
Jul 17, 2013
Artistic BulimiaAs a child I would eat crayons and then purge oceans onto paper.
1
Jul 2, 2013
Bottom is to Top as Top is to BottomThe first time our lips met my stomach immediately went into effect / Infectious, serious, god you made me feel delicious and delirious / It was the missing muchness it both touched us, I haven't wanted to run out of too much of us
4
Jun 29, 2013
Dysfunctional DietingI eat and purge my relationships like a pro bulimic. I have a unique gift of attracting the most broken of individuals, truly an extremist. / Crazy, violent, addicted, on the run, think they are moon babies banished to live on the sun, AND always saying, “Hey baby you’re my number one". AND even though I know better than to ride on the coattails of crazy, I convince myself I’m actually a someone to anyone. Like I give a **** So then what’s the fuckin' hang up?
2
Jun 29, 2013
Hittin' the bottle** / This message in the bottle is my sleek way of stuffin' that good ole old crow full throttle, and it's lingering swagger back into my obvious nothin'. Now I'll never be a pre-teen model. / My grip to the bottle is furious followed by a sincere pen to the paper, new headlines feature my naughty by nature, marked **** quiet styled lyricist, kickin' back with words of a dark sided linguist. I'd insist just blowing smoke up that *** but I'm dead fuckin' serious. I need to be reassured that the message in the bottle does IN FACT exist.**
3
May 30, 2013
Shoot the Moon**I watched as that needle drained you of your capacity. Capacity to feel. Capacity to deal. Capacity to reel in the really real. I watched and I knew that devil was one I would never *****
1
May 23, 2013
Untitled***I never really liked / my name much / until I found out
6
May 2, 2013
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