tattooed youth

I wish that the people who show so much passionate hatred towards my appearance and my idgaf style aesthetic would show that much passionate hatred to the fact that so many young girls of colour are missing and HAVE been missing, or would show that much passionate hatred to the fact that young black boys get slain in the streets, or would show that much passionate hatred to the thousands of toddlers that are sold and traded for sex trafficking, but nah, or would show that much passionate hatred to a pop “culture” that consistently mocks and ridicules black women, or would show that much passionate hatred to all of the cities doing nothing for the homeless in their city, or would show that much passionate hatred to a government that still doesn’t provide textbooks to inner city schools, or would show that much hatred to the fact that there are men who STILL to this day try to tell women/trans women what to do/what not to do with their bodies, or would show that much passionate hatred to the fact that kids are still being bullied in school and turning to suicide and school officials STILL do nothing about it, i wish people would show that much passionate hatred towards the fact that gay/trans people get murdered just for being THEM, but nah, they’re too busy to care about real shit i guess, but nah they’d rather be “posh” and discuss appearances, to everyone out there comfortable in their own skin, just keep fucking doing you okay? you’re the best at it

ig : the_yvesdropper

it rained a lot that summer, when johnny worked part time bussing tables at the diner and callie tattooed flowers on everybody’s necks. we bruised easy and loved hard and both hurt more than they should’ve. johnny said we were gods and i said i wouldn’t take it so far, said maybe we’re just pretty damn great at pretending. callie said stop it but i didn’t stop it, just kept tearing down the almost temples. the flowers on our necks are going to fade and we’re going to go with them. i’m sorry johnny, some things just weren’t meant to be holy.
—  india ink || s.o.
4

“Oh, God! I’m gonna die alone
Adolescence didn’t make sense
A little loss of innocence
The ugly years of being a fool
Ain’t youth meant to be beautiful?”