I died in September cried myself to sleep and drown in a river of blood is this what hell looks like? sad quiet haunting
red
it took me two months to swallow the river (product of my sorrow)
I went home Thanksgiving a new man and daddy asks “why do you dress like a vampire?”
he’s on to me
the next twenty days I fantasized revenge I read I practiced I wrote: “How to Swallow a Man After He’s Broken Your Heart”
I died in the process
I went home Christmas a dead man full and daddy asks “whose funeral you going to?”
mine
I buried my body at the bottom of my stomach I killed the butterflies I swallowed a photograph of the self I were I planted flowers in my liver and poured 40s atop my casket till my stomach bleed
This weekend it got pretty warm in Ohio! Yay for us! Next weekend it's going to snow again though so I tried to take advantage of this lovely weather before that happened. I've been talking a lot of shit lately so I figure I'll give you guys a break and just post a few outfits—no politics.
Oh, by the way, I have a new redirect url, just a little easier. lackwhen.com! I'm getting there y'all!
Ever since I can remember, masculinity has been questioned and challenged. Both mine and the men around me. For some reason, unknown to me, when someone challenges or goes against the typical idea of what a man is supposed to be, or of how a man is supposed to act, the world starts to crumble just a little bit. Or so it seems. While I like to believe that I live in a progressive society that is open to change, I cannot help but remember and acknowledge all of the criticism I have been exposed to directed toward men who don't fit a certain mold. As with women, men are born and immediately assigned a role. Immediately wrapped in a blue blanket because that is a "boy" color. We are raised to believe that playing sports makes us more of a man and that liking something artistic like dance or painting makes you feminine or even gay.
