I love boys who have massive, throbbing vocabularies.
彡☆°・*okay but aliens on other planets believing that aliens exist is aliens believing in you.*・°☆彡
haha! have fun at highschool today NERDS. i’m gonna be doing cool ADULT stuff like sleeping WHENEVER i want and CRYING
she leans in, mouth stained red with wine, and whispers
“You know it’s always been you, right?”
Then she wants to kiss.
Then she wants to talk about love like it
isn’t a promise to you, and you let her,
because you’re lonely and you’ve only ever been hungry for this.
On a night like all the other nights,
she goes home with him, instead.
She messes up his sheets and wakes
up tangled in him like ivy growing up the side of a house, and it isn’t you.
You realize it’s never going to be you.
Remember what she sounds like when
she tells you she loves you,
when she wipes her nose with shaking hands and says you’re the only woman, the only soft she ever wants to sink her hands into.
Find the lie and hold it between
your teeth like a grenade pin.
Go home alone and pick the shrapnel
out of your chest.
How can you do it?
How can you love her when she takes it all out of you and keeps it?
Oh, but you do, on the nights like all the other nights,
on the mornings when
she wakes up and kisses him honest.
You will always be waiting for her,
like a train that never comes, a phone that never rings,
a hand that never holds,
and nothing will ever feel more extraordinary." (via internalgrowth)
Anonymous said: Sometimes I jerk off to stock photos of women with salads and I imagine there's a woman out there that would be that happy about my dick
Steal My Sunshine | Len
From the album You Can’t Stop the Bum Rush (1999)
all women were bigger and stronger than you
and thought they were smarter
women were the ones who started wars
too many of your friends had been raped by women wielding giant dildos
and no K-Y Jelly
the state trooper
who pulled you over on the New Jersey Turnpike
was a woman
and carried a gun
the ability to menstruate
was the prerequisite for most high-paying jobs
your attractiveness to women depended
on the size of your penis
every time women saw you
they’d hoot and make jerking motions with their hands
women were always making jokes
about how ugly penises are
and how bad sperm tastes
you had to explain what’s wrong with your car
to big sweaty women with greasy hands
who stared at your crotch
in a garage where you are surrounded
by posters of naked men with hard-ons
men’s magazines featured cover photos
of 14-year-old boys
tucked into the front of their jeans
and articles like:
“How to tell if your wife is unfaithful”
“What your doctor won’t tell you about your prostate”
“The truth about impotence”
the doctor who examined your prostate
was a woman
and called you “Honey”
you had to inhale your boss’s stale cigar breath
as she insisted that sleeping with her
was part of the job
you couldn’t get away because
the company dress code required
you wear shoes
designed to keep you from running
And what if
after all that
women still wanted you
to love them.
For the Men Who Still Don’t Get It, written 20 years ago by Carol Diehl.
She wrote a post about the history of this poem that is worth reading.