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The ocean was grey,
And her lips were red.

Everything around me tasted like salt,
Like sun-baked, sunscreened skin.
Like the blue-striped beach towel
And her damp ocean hair.

My mother didn’t know our secret;
That we held hands in the backseat of the car,
And kissed in the bathtub,
And tasted the cores of each other’s awkward bodies.

The ocean was grey,
And I was on fire.

Sorry that I haven’t been so active since my ask blog opened. I thought I might as well post this little thing for you guys that I forgot I did. Would you guys believe that these originally were my designs for Bendy and Alice? I decided to change them for my fanart as an exercise to draw outside of my comfort zone and it’s really helped me improve. I personally think I made the right choice to go with the rubber-hose look.

Anyways I’ve decided to make a schedule that may or may remain for the rest of the summer (if I get that job). I have commissions and that Benlice comic that I want to finish so I can focus solely on the ask blog. Which has been a blast so far you guys are awesome! I’m planning out how the comic will wrap up - with two more parts. As for my askblog I’ll say more on the actual blog.

1. Why am I so tired?
2. Why don’t I actually care about anything?
3. What’s at the bottom of the ocean?
4. How long can I hold my breath for?
5. Why do I like chaos so much?
6. What is dark matter?
7. Do plants talk to each other?
8. Will I ever want to be something?
9. What does it feel like to shoot heroin?
10. Am I morally corrupt?
11. Why is money so important?
12. What does the color indigo sound like?
13. What does the color red feel like?
14. Are we alone?
15. What does it feel like to be born?
16. Why do people even care about art?
17. Why is everyone dead?
18. How do I become a real person?
19. Is my body mad at me?
20. How can we ever explain existence?
—  20 questions

With her I was always
So dizzy and time
Moves like a stop-motion film, where
I am dropped into
Different places without knowing it.
We crawled under the bedroom
Floors and into the
Carpet fibers. She thought I was
Beautiful, in a way that was deep and
Slow like honey. She makes my
Palms sweat. She’s the backseat
Of a car, where we are fingers
Grasping for fingers, my head
On her shoulder.
And then, without warning, we
Loved each other.
I gave her my ocean and fields
Of summer grass; my bed and
All my hot blood.

I could write a million lines
all these broken phrases
that people seem to relate to
when they miss someone, too.
I could keep going
about the short-lived, almost-love
and drunken nights
or talking in your car.
I could keep going
about the size of your hands
compared to mine,
you could overlap my fingertips
I’d always feel so small.
I could keep going
about the time I told you everything
but nothing at the same time
you think you knew it all,
but there was a method to my madness.
I could keep going
about how sincere I felt
how I truly thought of you every morning,
bad habits are hard to break
maybe that’s why this is so hard.
I could keep going
about how lost I feel now
because we could have been beautiful
I feel cheated like a rigged casino game
at the end of the day I’m left with nothing,
because we were almost something
but almost something
won’t hold you at night,
no,
but I could keep going.

allegiances aside,
we could have been friends.
we live for our queens
and die for our kings now
until the hour of the light
as you lie never to rise
again
—  @thefias-co

Lover is
Danger; feeling like a grown-up.

Making bad choices and feeling good about them.
Coca-Cola, Chinese cigarettes,
Getting a nosebleed from doing a flip on the trampoline.

Scraped-raw skin and feeling alive.
Ice cream melting between fingers,
Baked Alaska, smoking weed, sticky-sweaty basement couch.

Secrets, and reasons to be quiet.
The ocean.

The sand that you find in your clothes for weeks.