here you'll find my rules and guidelines along with an exhaustive list of triggers you'll find on this account. feel free to look around the site but mind the backstory, i'm too lazy to change it.
deepveinunderpressure.carrd.…
caught dozing off during alumni welcome. bit hard to care 'bout whoever he lectured ten plus ago askin' 'bout his skincare routine since he “hasn't aged a day since i graduated!”
popping a fresh bit of cinnamon n' ginger gum each time she comes up to the desk until she's associating his breath with a warm feeling in the lower gut
mental health of jesus retweeted
i want to stitch you back up before your motor skills go kaput so the last thing you got to show for 'em is me fingerfucking the space between your kidneys and gallbladder. i want you to need me, and i want you to fuckin' hate me for it. ’
mental health of jesus retweeted
when i say ‘ love, i want to be on your mind forever. ’ what i'm tryin' to say is ‘ i want to keep you alive long enough to slice you open tits to cunt, i want to play around with your insides and yank your spinal nerves like i'm God and they're strings of time.
mental health of jesus retweeted
born to tell the b-cupped tramp stamped brat crop top in the big 'twenty-six'd student that sits third row of his lecture hall ‘ m'picturin' wearin' yer insides like a bowlin' ball ’, forced to smile and say ‘ good insight, butta bit far from the author's intentions. ’
mental health of jesus retweeted
‘ christ, yer so wet ’ with two fingers jammed into her thigh, twisting around the femoral vein.
mental health of jesus retweeted
creature of observation he is. flush in the cheeks, twiddling fingers, an inability to take a compliment. negligent parents and a just—achiever in high school. blood's in the water and it smells like wine, it's dripping in a trail behind the rocking of heels, sings like
mental health of jesus retweeted
this corpse i've been piloting since boyhood is really durable for some reason
mental health of jesus retweeted
another time he introduced himself as John Wayne. when the girl had laughed and asked 'like the cowboy?' he had said, 'no, like the killer,' and hit her in the temple with a tire iron before she could run.
creature of observation he is. flush in the cheeks, twiddling fingers, an inability to take a compliment. negligent parents and a just—achiever in high school. blood's in the water and it smells like wine, it's dripping in a trail behind the rocking of heels, sings like
hi—hats when it falls to the floor, like uncomfortable giggles because someone like him bothered to give you the time of day and it'll make all of yours from now until you die.
he circles like predator to pray, smiles all teeth like a wolf, laughs low when you shiver.


















