am i rotting out

If I exist entirely as a
performance of my heart,
my spine meets its god
in the spaces between your
teeth. When you do not
like what comes from me,
when her eyes crystallize
in tandem with the skin of
my smile, it becomes messy
and tangles itself upside down
like bad fruit. I am
bad fruit, when I know there
is nothing good in falling.
I talk and talk when I know my
tongue is beginning to fall out.
I am rotted and holding on
so I do not become
compost inside you, or inside
the roadside graveyard of the last
small animal who did not
bite. So I
do not become the presentation
of a false enamoring.
I do not tell the crows to go.
I do not say I feel like
leaving my skin alone again,
and letting what is in me
untie, promising to never be
a sickness of imitation.
Though, we know.
—  “If Your Friends Don’t Like Me” by Emma Bleker

She’s about as apologetic as she looks

What springs
from the depths
of my dark heart?
Soundless bullets
shot from a loaded gun.
Ripping through arteries,
tearing new paths inside me -
tunnelling until I am a hollow bag
of chipped and brittle bones bleeding
internal for eternity, these wounds don’t
heal inside of me, they gush until it starts
seeping out of my bruised skin; I am rotted fruit.
What springs
from the depths
of my dark heart?
Damage shot from
a glock - pistol cocked;
I hope you wore your armour.
—  What Springs? // © @rarasworldbro

Let’s Christmas! 🎄☃

Inspired by @book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure:
2. Sneaking out in the middle of the night with _____ to play in the snow.
Request from @daughterofautumn.

Words: 1699
Warnings: none

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entry three -

i like to use words to make things seem beautiful, to make them seem poetic and so you can feel the fire inside of me. but there is nothing beautiful or poetic about the way i am shrinking and you can not see the fire burning in my eyes anymore because the fire inside has went out. i am a shell and every day i am decaying, i am rotting from the inside out. it started with my stomach and my liver, they couldn’t take all the pills, it happened so quick and i was so numb, i could not feel them slowly stop. they died and before i knew it my muscles we’re leaving me too from the lack of food and water, i thought if i shrunk i would be beautiful but that is not the way that flowers grow. the rest of my body died slowly, i kept shrinking and they did not have any room to breathe. i have let myself die and i do not mind, i like the quiet, the human body makes too much noise. my heart beats so slow sometimes i think it does not beat at all, but i know it’s there because my brain is screaming at me to care for it and nurture it and bring it back to life. bring my whole self back to life, doesn’t he know that’s not what i want? i like feeling nothing, my blood does not pump through my body anymore because i let it all out, my bones are turning to dust and my skin is decaying.

hopefully soon my heart will finally stop and my brain will stop yelling and i will finally, finally be at peace.

soon i will hear nothing and that is how i will stay. i just need to finish rotting first.


I no longer have access to this account on any other device besides my iPad because of some technical errors. With that being said, I am leaving this blog here, to rot basically. Once I log out of this blog, I can no longer access this blog. For those of you who care, I will leave my new url here @enby-gaymer. ( /for some stupid reason I can’t tag my new blog/ thank you guys. I’ll keep this blog logged in for quite awhile until most of my current followers have been notified. I will also have this queued for several times a day so everyone has a chance to see this message.


HI THERE! I am alive and well, even though it really didn’t seem anything like it for the past two months– it’s always so difficult to tell how bad the semester’s coursework will be until you actually find yourself knee-deep in the middle of it, and then you realize it is a festering swamp of responsibilities and assignments that is drowning you and also is probably giving you tetanus. Every day I was like “ugh but I really want to update with something!” and then I would get home at like 10PM and collapse with exhaustion.

So because I am rotting from the inside out with school, here is a sketch of Marius being very responsible with his theoretical frameworks, even in what ought to be pretty stressful circumstances. Enjolras is having none of it. YES all the jokes on this blog are forever going to be horrifying grad school jokes, NO I neither enjoy nor endorse it, but also I am slowly losing all ability to do or be any other way! Please send help. IT IS AS PAINFUL FOR ME AS IT IS FOR YOU

Lately, I have been deep in thought about life and time and how little we know or understand about this world and our purpose. But I do know one thing, we never know what happens after death. Maybe we are re-born; perhaps we have souls that travel to unknown dimensions afterwards. Or maybe we are simply a brain that will rot meaninglessly in a coffin underground. Or maybe we never truly existed. Our universe could very well be just a labyrinth that formed from a possible outcome of a choice that one single being had to make. We move forward everyday, never knowing if someday we have the possibility of going back. Every single choice we make, we create more and more possible outcomes, creating more and more universes. What I have gathered is that possibility is infinite. I may not know where I am going or how each choice I make will effect my future, but one thing I do know is that I want to make the choices count. I have spent an entire life making choices based on fear. But now I realize what I fear the most is not death; I fear waking up someday when I am old and rotting, to know that out of all the infinite possibilities I’ve had in my lifetime, I wasted them all because I was afraid. I don’t want to die knowing I never lived. We never know if we will have a chance to start again. I think if we all loved instead of feared, we could all die happy. Love is always the answer. Always.

16719) I can't talk to anyone anymore. It's too much for my boyfriend to handle, he's started shutting me out when I bring up the eating disorder. I don't have friends outside of the internet, and I don't want to burden them, either. So I hole up in my head, with the nasty, self-destructive thoughts, and I fester. I feel like I'm rotting from the inside out. I probably am.
still life

fruit in a glass bowl:
you are bruised
and I am rotting slowly
inside out,
a sweet pungency
marked ripeness, red
tinged green, we
are decomposing dirt brown
by the bread box
waiting for consumption
by one thing or another;
you frown
while i am grinning 
at the juice, pooled below