❝death, secrets, broken pieces.❞ • • • in which a girl talks to her dead best friend about why he was murdered, reminiscing on their past and revealing secrets she had kept from him. • • • ❝everything you have right now, one day it's all...
In which a dead boy and a living girl reunite after several years. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 2016. N. A. || The sequel to 'Boy' In order to understand this story to its full potential, reading Boy is probably a good idea. But you don't have to.
"i remember." © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 2015. N. A. The sequel to 'Boy' is 'Funnybones' and is available to read on my profile.
the impulse of my thoughts, glowing againts the blanket of stars. [lowercase intended; thoughts in the form of poetry]
Trashy poetry by a legendary trashcan. All Rights Reserved. © 2016 browncommas cover: @lonelysuburbs
here is maë. girl. mortal. philosopher. harbinger of death. here is armie. boy. god. lover. armageddon. and here is the end of the world.
❝Good morning. This is Target, how can I help you?❞ ❝Why do I have the sudden urge to kill my family?❞ ❝...Woah...well...shit. Ma'am, I think you dialed the wrong number.❞ ❝No. I dialed correctly. Are you any help?❞ ❝...No sé qué decir a esta chica loca.❞ In which a girl named Farah calls Target and meets a boy named...
crashing waves. thunderstorms. destruction. they all f e e l like you. shade. tears. stagnant rivulets. they all l o o k like me.
I LIE IN DUST AND ASHES, my corpse withers next to you, my love ©2017 WREN #663, #503, #582, #475, #300, #294,#251, #210, #189, #158, #146, #234, #341, #405
→ she planted dreams and watered them with her own tears. ← All rights reserved. ©2016
And when the day returns to ashes and dark you'll find me stealing ephemeral infinities, like a thousand songs never again to be sung under fallen stars and mechanical cities. A collection of the poems I wrote in 2015 [ © 2015 by shaye ]
gus; [noun] 1. the only boy who likes the stars © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 2014. N. A.
［Highest ranking: #15］"Perhaps 'it wasn't meant to be' was our meant to be" he says as he chugs down yet another drink. She looks at him and rolls her eyes, "I wonder when your organs will give up on you too".
when you steal all that's evil and bury it underground: these are our ghosts lost and this is our winter found. collected poems from 2017 [ © 2017 by shaye ]
