And I Would Rip Myself Apart For You,

and I would rip myself apart for you,

crack open my ribcage and let you

take whatever you wanted.

but you have been teaching me

that you do not need me to,

that I do not need me to.

More Posts from Edmond-monet and Others

1 year ago

There are so many terrible things in the world and I refuse to let myself become one of them

1 year ago

god will never love me the way he loves you,

and that is all the assurance I have in this world.


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1 year ago

sometimes,

I fear,

I feel too much.


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9 months ago

the screaming that bounces around the inside of my skull is back to grace me with its presence. guttural and keening and feral.

i take another sip from my soda can and pretend i do not hear it, because to let it out into the world, where it would transform from visceral agony to banal noise, would be worse than enduring it silently. at least this way i can still feel it. at least this way no one else has to.


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1 year ago

surrounded by a kaleidoscopic miasma

of dead things and broken dreams

rotting lies and bandages

slathered with nitroglycerin

oh, my love,

let us burn down the world together

and as we stand on the precipice of the ashes,

may we burn down with it


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1 year ago
Northern Lights Photographed From Space
Northern Lights Photographed From Space
Northern Lights Photographed From Space
Northern Lights Photographed From Space

northern lights photographed from space

1 year ago

hii ik we don’t interact much, but i just want to say that i love seeing u pop up in my notifs !

i also really love ur poetry. i totally resonate w the emotions being conveyed :^) please don’t ever stop writing !!! <3

❤️ aww, thank you! the support is really appreciated! much love to you as well!!


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1 year ago

“i’m sorry,” I whisper desperately.

i’m sorry for feeling too much.

I’m sorry that it spills out of me uncontrolled, violently.

i’m sorry I was never handled gently.

i’m sorry nobody ever taught me what love is.


Tags
1 year ago

i am laying flowers at the grave

of the man who killed me;

and there is nothing god could do

to stop me now.


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edmond-monet - dying vicariously
dying vicariously

21. poetry, stream-of-consciousness, musings, aesthetic posts

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