22 9 / 2014
//On a scale of one to “Hans pirouetting as he skates off-stage” how well is your evil plot going?
22 9 / 2014
"Mother, he is a gentleman.
He is a builder with bricks of moonlight.
He knows the secret places of the earth.
He washes the sleep from the eyes of the souls.
He lets them look on beauty.
He lets them tell him they hate him.
In the mornings, I gather berries and apples.
I scrub his back with rind.
I weave spider-spit, eyelash.
He talks in his sleep: pudding, fire, discus,
the things he misses.
He breathes, Your body is my orchard.
I am undulating grass.
I am a field of wheat he parts with his fingers.
Poppies bloom in my veins.
When he kisses me, he tastes pomegranate.
The night crawls nearer.
The moans of the dead roll and swell.
Mother, we are well."
21 9 / 2014
Anonymous said: you look fucking stupid in a dress, DUDE
come closer one second
okay close enough
i have a simple question: which of us is wearing a crown?
that would be me.
do you know what this crown means?
it means i look fucking cute
and you’re the human embodiment of a sore butt
now as your fucking queen, i royally declare
that i am beautiful and you are a listerine enema
Forever reblog. ❤