rephael Aug 22

They call it sin
Yet what is sinful about us?
My thoughts of thou
Making love to you
Is it unorthodox?
Is it anything but beautiful?

Riot Jul 2

i went on. i went on and never spoke to you about how cracked little by little till my insides seeped out.
the coffee shop knows my name, i've been there so many times everyone on every shift knows me personally and ask how are things. it seems everyone knows you too. i feel bad for putting them all in a terrible position, in between you and i; i've always lied & return home.  
my thoughts have shifted since i got the courage to think freely again. i sit in the bed and crash, hoping you'll return next to me. the spots you touched on my home knows yours. the corners of my mind ache hourly. all i see is you standing in my door frame with a smirk on your face that could break me in half just about now.
i suppose that's easier than just hollow.

oh god I can't sleep
Riot Aug 19

Warning, warning, red alert.

Warning, warning,
Breaking News:
This just in

A woman loves me.

Riot Aug 19

You're one of those girls,
the ones with the fire extingishers for mouths,
cooling me down,
until my words
aren't burning,
Just warm.

Love you know?
Riot Aug 19

I've imagined a romance plagued by jazz.

Ella sings in my head, as i
fall in love.

Billy tells me your secret wishes, as we
dance around a christmas tree that barely fit in my crappy apartment.

Louis sings you to sleep
Whenever I never got to say goodnight.

olivia g Aug 14

Her hair may smell like sweet summer rain and her smile always settles weirdly in your stomach, but she is poison. She is a toxic cocktail garnished with cigarette smoke that reminds you of the night you came too close to kissing her. She is unattainable, she is right beside you and yet your fingertips cannot ever quiver hard enough to close the gap between you and her.

You crave her so desperately. You would be humbled to fall apart for her. At her feet, you’d make your bed, and there you would stay all alone through the night, dreaming of how she swore she’d come back for you. There you will stay while the dawn filters in through the drapes, while the sharp rays of early morning light are all that is there for you to blame for your tears. She will not come back because boys will be boys, with their tousled hair and heavy brows and all of their hard edges, and she will love them for that. No matter how hard she bleeds before he gives way for her, she will melt into him.

She wears your sorrows like a dress gown. You tell her past the knot in your throat that she looks gorgeous. Your palms itch; it takes everything in you to not smooth down the ripples in the fabric around her hips. Her night skin’s being shed by calloused hands within her first hour out at the bar. And in a few hours’ time, she’s battling her hangover with her head in your lap while you comb through the mess of her hair and tell her that she still deserves better. She says she knows that already.

What she doesn’t know is that you do, too.

to any girl who's ever fallen for her straight best friend…you will find love, and she will be brilliance unlike you've ever seen before. xxx
Riot Aug 13

I'm broken. drunk
Entirely off of you.

Your breath,
mixed with Mine,
Intertwined,

Against a world,
Who never wanted us here.

They wanted to destroy people like us

home is on the hill.
cerise sunsets
command the skies --
clouds succumb
to their will.

home is on the hill.
she'll run her fingers
through your hair;
you lay blissfully
still.

home is on the hill.
a makeshift bed
of shamrock green:
recurring dreams
fulfilled.

home is on the hill.
your demons take
a vacation...
momentary
tranquil.

home is on the hill.
her lips still taste
like cherryade,
and there's
still time to kill.

this is probably the first happy thing ive ever written
Joanna Rose Jul 21

You're not like the other girls I've loved
Your laugh is like the embodiment of summer
Warm weather and flowers blooming
Two girls with sun kissed skin and strawberry lips, that's us
Please don't ever go away my love
I don't think I could stand it if you did

I wrote this about the girl I'm currently dating
fairyenby Jul 18

It drives me insane when people see me holding a girls hand and ask
“So who’s the guy? You know, who wears the pants?”
I want to scream and say WE ARE LESBIANS. Firstly, neither of us are ever wearing any pants. I want to scream and say WE ARE LESBIANS, and i’m angry because lesbian does not always have to mean woman but where did you get man from? I’m angry because maybe sometimes one of us does identify as a guy. A gay boi with an I. A soft boy. A proud hairy legged 5”4 boy. A drinking pints in the pub with my dad and us both liking that same woman’s tattoo boy. A cries every day boy. A feels cool when drinking beer boy. A boy that had to teach themself to like beer boy. A boy who sometimes does not feel like a boy. A boy. A boy. Oh boy. Boys. You see, this question is confusing for me because when I was fourteen, my boyfriend and I would joke that I was the one wearing the pants, even though at that point I was very much still wearing skirts and hiding behind butt-length hair and also watching the L Word in secret when I got home from school but that’s besides the point. This question is obviously as confusing for you as it is for me because in your mind you see two pairs of tits holding hands on the tube and think: Lesbians. Now, which one’s the man? And I think to myself, there are two ways to answer this: Number 1: So I know lesbian is supposed to mean woman on woman, two vaginas, scissoring, strap-ons, veganism, art degrees (and a lot of this is true but let’s not stereotype). So I know that to you, although we appear to be two women, two snap-back wearing, sports-bra bearing- I mean I thought about writing hymen- tearing here but it just doesn’t seem appropriate- women, the funny thing is that erm, you see, gender and sexuality: as different as my dad to my mum’s other ex-husband. We are not a man and a woman. We are two people and what do pants have to do with it? We are two people and why does one of us always have to be a man? We are two people and the awkward part of the point i’m making is that sometimes I don’t feel like a woman but you wouldn’t know that so let me say: we are not a man and a woman. We did not ask for your confrontation, we are not your designated driver, your answer sheet to an exam you haven’t sat yet, your house party when your parents go away, your girlfriend that you think is obliged to suck your dick even though you will not go anywhere near her clit.  You are not our three year old son who asks too many inappropriate questions. To you, we are strangers and to answer your question, you seem to think that you’re wearing the pants here. So wear them. By the way, Number 2: fuck off.

this is a draft nd might be changed but also might not be so

yeah

I got angry again

x
Next page