what's under my bed

Twenty. Female. Poet. Monster in disguise.
lilyredneck:

dut-dut-goose:

queenofferrets:

juzanotherblog:

new bra from victoria secret! :) 

A woman stands in her bedroom. She is with her attractive male lover. The air is filled with desire. They both look into each other’s eyes. The female, with a slightly bashful smile, takes off her clothes, starting with the pants first, and finally the shirt. She is wearing the bra. The man’s eyes opened wider in interest. His interest is peaked. The woman strutted closer to him, her eyes batting and her smile growing. She leans into his ear and with a breathy voice, she spoke:“Lettuce fuck.” 

I graduate in three days, I pay my own bills, I have a car, and I’m reading fanfiction about a lettuce bra.


It has a little lettuce bow.

lilyredneck:

dut-dut-goose:

queenofferrets:

juzanotherblog:

new bra from victoria secret! :) 

A woman stands in her bedroom. She is with her attractive male lover. The air is filled with desire. They both look into each other’s eyes. The female, with a slightly bashful smile, takes off her clothes, starting with the pants first, and finally the shirt. She is wearing the bra. The man’s eyes opened wider in interest. His interest is peaked. The woman strutted closer to him, her eyes batting and her smile growing. She leans into his ear and with a breathy voice, she spoke:

“Lettuce fuck.” 

I graduate in three days, I pay my own bills, I have a car, and I’m reading fanfiction about a lettuce bra.

It has a little lettuce bow.

(Source: justinbiebergoth, via adsalfaro)

Every morning I sit at the kitchen table over a tall glass of water swallowing pills. (So my hands won’t shake.) (So my heart won’t race.) (So my face won’t thaw.) (So my blood won’t mold.) (So the voices won’t scream.) (So I don’t reach for knives.) (So I keep out of the oven.) (So I eat every morsel.) (So the wine goes bitter.) (So I remember the laundry.) (So I remember to call.) (So I remember the name of each pill.) (So I remember the name of each sickness.) (So I keep my hands inside my hands.) (So the city won’t rattle.) (So I don’t weep on the bus.) (So I don’t wander the guardrail.) (So the flashbacks go quiet.) (So the insomnia sleeps.) (So I don’t jump at car horns.) (So I don’t jump at cat-calls.) (So I don’t jump a bridge.) (So I don’t twitch.) (So I don’t riot.) (So I don’t slit a strange man’s throat.)

Jeanann Verlee; ”Good Girl”  (via perfect)

(Source: undare, via vituperati0n)

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