''clocktower

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happy birthday @huntressmaria

okay but real talk

Today I went to the park today to catch Pokemon. I asked my mom if she could go, and she asked if I was running fever (because usually, in summer, I never leave my room).

I went to the park and right as I pulled up I saw three kids (well, teenagers) walking with their phones out. “Is everyone here for Pokemon Go?” They said yeah and told me about a gym down the nature trail. I went and didn’t challenge it because I didn’t think I’d be strong enough yet. Anyway, in the park where I was, there’s this clocktower in the center, and everyone was gathered around there. The reason was because the clocktower was the gym, and around the clocktower were three pokestops that were really close to each other. It was pretty rad. People would ask what team you were, and if you were on their team, they’d point at you approvingly or high-five you.

Some of my friends showed up later! All of them were band kids. I mostly traveled alone but a lot of them stayed in groups of two or three or four. I caught so many pokemon! Mostly pidgeys and rattatas, but that’s okay because I caught enough that I could evolve my Pidgeotto and one of my stronger rattatas.

Also, a lot of churches in the area were gyms and pokestops! At the church I used to attend regularly, I caught a Bulbasaur!

Today was a good day.

GIRL, or HOW TO LOVE THE DYING // m.g.d.

girl ;
all guillotine, glass fingernails
                 whalebone eyes
there’s no room for lungs in 24 inch
waists    & sometimes,
the dress squeezes your heart
                     out of your throat
this bird on a telephone wire romance
drives knives through my skin or armor,
    i guess

                 we spend our lives
fighting, come out midnight skies,
black velvet & blue moon, bloody
knuckles, broken ribs
we wore mascara like war paint
pink lipstick still makes me think of you

        you, paradox. clocktower bones,
metronome heart
holding on to soft even
while making mannequin your birdcage frame
you carry atlases in the lines of your palms
        like road maps
                    like plans

you still cling & I tremble
knees like chances not taken
dollhouse cheeks full
with swollen blood vessels
            in august,
I shatter into porcelain but punches
only bruise your measuring tape skin
your hourglass hips drain sand    the same way
your pushpin lips shrink with each
day you don’t speak &
                                     you
                                             are fading

Revenanthorror || Closed

Plasmius had his own little room in the Clocktower. With Clockwork teaching him about his powers he oftentimes spent several days there. He was lounging on his bed and playing with miniature stars when he sensed another ghost nearby, one with an ectosignature he wasn’t familiar with. He dispelled the stars and left the room to find out who had appeared.