bloodl3tting

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I owe u a black eye and two kisses!!! (teeth eater)

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 “hi welcome to mcdonalds what can i get for you?”

“yeah can i get a deluxe quarter pounder with cheese?”

“absolutely, do you want the meal or just the sandwich?’

“uuuuuh hold on”

*fishes something out of my pocket*

“mikey what do i do?”

“get the fries. youll need the energy in the coming days”

*stuffs it back in my pocket*

“uhh yes please  the meal would be great”

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let’s see how many tattoos i can get in 2025

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art i made

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i find it funny that conservatives try to paint me calling for the death and destruction of multi-billionaire CEOs as some radical "woke liberal" standpoint. as if that even has anything to do with politics, especially in this era of surface level circus politics. the same way they try to politicize the hurricanes or the wildfires destroying parts of america, as if climate change is somehow a red vs. blue issue. it's no secret i'm from a deeply conservative family in the sticks of florida and i still grew up hearing "i fought the law and the law won". the healthcare system has fucked each and every member of my family in a different way at one point or another, as is the case with pretty much every family in this scorched earth nation. remember when country music, the genre currently associated the heaviest with the most conservative faction of america, used to be staunchly anti-government and about sticking it to the man? remember when the coal miners, grandfathers to the "trump-er hillbillies" of appalachia that everyone loves to write off as ignorant, fought tooth and nail for unionization because the companies that were built off their labor didn't give a shit if they lived or died? since when has "upholding traditional values" gone hand in hand with... defending lawmakers and oil tycoons. my family and i complain about the same issues at the dinner table. the men in charge better hope they can keep their digital smokescreens running as long as they can because the moment the rednecks and the hippies lay down their swords long enough to realize they have the same enemy, all hell is gonna break loose.

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i saw go before me, a great impossible thing

sensual and concrete

splitting me open

renders me obsolete

i’ve slain greater

and moved on

make room in hell

make room in hell

make room in hell

they cry, you don’t have to go

they cry, you don’t have to go

my love

i know

i know

i know

i know

i know

i know

i know

i know

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HAPPY YEAR OF THE SNAKE!

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spaceman craig

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i want it now.

the fact that someone owns this

i...don't know what to say

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sorry i have no intentions of having tiktok if it was a political stunt from a fascist pig… (insert will they blame me if you go disappearing by hail the sun)

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i got tattoo

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this is probably my favourite andy photo

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he better be at warped tour or else

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Do you just randomly catch yourself looking at pictures or band members and giggling like a schoolgirl

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Andy Biersack in the 2000s-2010s 🪽

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Circus

What if I broke my spine forever? My sister would come into the room to draw her portraits in charcoal, of two bulging eyes in a sea of haze grey. Each portrait is no bigger than an index card, arranged on a piece of rigid stock paper, tessellated and horribly consistent. All those dead eyes staring out at her as she renders them incapable of telling her anything. “I hate you” she would say to me, every time she would finish another. “You’ve ruined it. You’ve completely ruined it.” She would storm out the room, echoing for complete lack of furniture, and I would be left alone with them to watch over me.

I would ask you to pick me up and you would do so carefully, my limp body soft and complete. Can you carry me, lay me on the mattress in the back of the house? Or on the ground, it doesn’t make a difference to me. Sometimes I think you don’t believe I can’t feel anything and most of the time I don’t believe you can imagine what that’s like.

“Crush me” I tell you. I can only blink my eyes and move my mouth. I could probably wiggle my ears if I tried but I never feel up to it. You would gently press down on my breasts and my rib cage.

“Can you feel that?”

I slowly move my head left to right and back again.

I think about outside and what it feels like to be there. The treetops and the june-bugs and the hatred I feel for summertime. Everyone has gone on without me.

“Hit me.”

You look at me like you don’t want to but I know where your wonder hides, in the small places like a boy afraid of his own shadow.

You punch me in my side, my arm, my stomach.

“Can you feel that?”

I smile so big like I’m at the circus.

“Cut me.”

“What?”

“Cut me.”

You look down at me on the mattress. Here I am, unmoving and so horny.

“Please, baby, if I never ask anything of you ever again, just cut me.”

Wonder-boy takes his buck knife and carves a small canyon on my upper thigh. I wouldn’t know if I hadn’t watched him do it.

“Again.”

He looks me in my eyes as he separates another layer of subcutaneous. It is pink and red and yellow and blue and disgusting. I am butter and cottage cheese inside.

He stands there over me, belt unbuckled, denim undone, sweating, afraid, wonder creeping out for a closer look. His eyes are wild, so far from the fog of mine. Yet, we both want the very same thing. He removes his penis from his clothes and his clothes from his body and he slides it, hard as stone, back and forth through the gushing flesh of my upper thigh. I can’t feel a thing but I could cum just from watching. I have my own wonder too. The air in the room is hung from the ceiling unmoving like a puppet sleeping on his gallows. I am so lucky that he loves me, I am I am I am. He fucks my butchered leg like a stray dog and I cum over and over and over again watching him.

We embrace like kin in the hospital waiting room. “I am so lucky that he loves me” I think as he holds me. Despite the bright red picture I’ve painted in the white lobby tonight, they ask of me just five minutes. I don’t mind. If I don’t look, it makes no difference to me.

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new pink campuses :3