a universal sigh

  • Joker: The stars are beautiful tonight
  • Harley: Yeah
  • Joker: You know what else is beautiful?
  • Harley: ...What?
  • Joker: *points at the sky* The batsignal
Accidentally seeing a ship you don't like.

Normal person: Clicks off of the ship, and moves onto something else.

Tumblr user: Process to make an anti-ship blog, post about why the people are wrong for shipping it, and then send death threats and harassment to people who do ship it.

lmao bye. yalll know you don’t have to listen to your professors … like even in mathematics you can fucking invent shit outside of what they teach lol that doesn’t play by their rules, if you put in enough time and research. of course learn your basics, but like professors are human and have biases 

… and theres usually a reason why they get hired and tenure lmao…. because they uphold the university typically.. and universities profit from capitalism, white supremacy, patriarchy and so on. 

And don’t even fucking try to tell me that I don’t miss you. Don’t even think you have or deserve the audacity to do that. You can’t make me fall in love with you and then decide that I don’t miss you. That isn’t how this works. Because I miss you with every inch of my being. All I do anymore is miss you. I miss your smell and your fingers and your laugh. I miss how you would make fun of me and all of our inside jokes, our conversations about the universe and our place in the world. I miss my best friend. And you most certainly don’t get to try to tell me otherwise.
—  missing you is consuming me

i don’t understand why people say stuff like ‘the homosexuality makes no sense in context’ in book reviews i mean does the heterosexuality of most books make any sense??? are the characters ever compatible??? no they’re just two teenagers who happen to be of the opposite gender so they’re sort of mashed together like an unsatisfying combination of brownies and yogurt 

The Signs as Michael Faudet Poems

Aries:

My Girl Who Writes

I watch you write,
my love, my life,
my start of everything.

Each little sigh,
a pen run day,
another painful page
begins.

Your fingers bleed,
I do concede,
for a sentence
of your making.

To which you say,
on sunshine days,
it is for words
my heart is breaking.

Taurus:

Kindness

Do you know what really turns me on?
What I find incredibly sexy? Kindness.

Gemini:

Pressed Flowers

To the quiet one,
the coy,
the wallflower.

Her dark circled eyes
buried in a book.

Hard little nipples,
dusty pink,
beneath a tatty
black singlet.

Those restless legs,
sprawled across
a squeaky bed.

Her secrets kept,
like pressed daisies
hidden by
pages read.

Cancer:

Spring

She wore the scent
of early spring
on her delicate neck
and every kiss I stole
tasted of bright yellow flowers
and buzzing bees.

Leo:

Airplanes

She rode on airplanes and fell asleep in hotel beds. Dreaming of faraway places– writing poetry with her sunset eyes.

Libra:

Stillness

There is a certain stillness, when even the gentle flutter of a butterfly’s wing feels like a hurricane.

The moment when crashing waves fall asleep, peaceful, lost to the serenity of salty dreams.

When tall tees stand to attention and every leaf pauses, takes a deep breath and holds it.

It is here, beneath the maddening silence I hear your name.

An echo of you.

Virgo:

The Gift

Her eyes were beautifully gift wrapped;
long black lashes of velvet ribbon–
and every time she opened them,
it felt like Christmas.

Scorpio:

The Mermaid

She came from the ocean,
this wild girl from the sea,
her hair flowing southwards,
she walked towards me.

A west to east smile,
with eyes steely grey,
like a storm in the distance,
rolling in from the bay.

We kissed with the sunrise,
made love when it set,
a promise by moonlight,
came dawn, my regret.

He left for the ocean,
this boy from the land,
his spirit soars northward,
his heart in her hands.

Sagittarius:

Pen Portrait

I watched as you reached for the ice cream.

Standing naked, body pressed up against the humming fridge.

A wispy trail of bluish grey smoke spiraling up from a dying cigarette.

Held precariously in the other hand, ash falling to the floor.

A just fucked wetness between your legs.

Your little smile captured in grainy black and white.

By the click of a camera.

Capricorn:

Some Days

Some days we spoke about life, other days, we discussed the weather– and whenever we laughed, it was the best sex ever.

Aquarius:

Stars

Magic tumbled from her pretty lips and when she poke the language of the universe– the stars sighed in unison.

Pisces:

The Apple Orchard

He floated upon a gentle sea of rippling green.

When little yellow butterflies danced drunk pirouettes on the windy stage.

Reading the words written by fluffy white poets who wrote ever changing prose across and endless blue page.

‘Apples are funny things,’ he said. ‘You can never be sure of what you are getting until you take that first bite.’

His hand reaches slowly for the half empty vodka bottle.

‘This afternoon I discovered an apple so wonderfully perfect, I wouldn’t be surprised if it came from the outstretched hand of a wicked old witch.’

She pulled up her white cotton panties, brushing an ant from a grass stained knee.

‘I’ve been called many things before but never an apple,’ she laughed.

None of these poems are mine. I borrowed them all from Michael’s book Dirty Pretty Things. Go check it out!