Thank you so much to all of my followers! There are now a thousand of you beautiful people who take time to read my stuff every once in a while and that’s pretty swaggie. I love you all.
- a.v.
08-30 / 17:03 / 2 notes

“don’t come back on bloody knees
when she leaves you
the way you left me.
I will not take your apologies.
I’m done being your comfortable,
your backup plan, your option,
the girl you always have waiting.
I don’t need your possibilities.”

a.v., permanence

08-29 / 18:36 / 51 notes

“When you refuse to face the humiliation,
when you start to leave the light on,
I will pick up every responsibility
you left lying on the floor
and wear them like fresh bruises.
I always did fall in the kind of love
that sunk its teeth into my skin;
pain is all I’ve ever known,
so go ahead, babe, wreck me.

You never brought your fists out
but I heard them in your voice,
in the stutter whenever you told me
that you loved me. That you needed me.
And I know you must’ve felt me shake
every time we closed our eyes;
even I didn’t notice how terrified I felt—
I thought the shaking was normal.
I thought love was all earthquakes.

We grew from the desolation
and all the wiped out battlefields.
Our love is nothing if not
bullet shells and an emptied rifle.
Our love is nothing now
other than dead, dead, dead.”

a.v., “machine gun love: you asked for this. I laced my kiss with poison.”

08-29 / 2:03 / 14 notes

“tell me how far you’ve gotten
with your hands around my neck.
try your best to hold my voice,
but I’ll never stop bleeding your name.

and, baby, you know better
than to fight what your heart says;
you know exactly where it breaks
but still haven’t learned to repair;

you were all floodgates & no lock,
so it won’t be my fault
when no one stays around long enough
to go down drowning with you.

this is the last time you leave me.
this is the last time I let you.”

a.v., what I never had the courage for

08-27 / 16:21 / 20 notes

“It’s all right if we keep forgetting the way home.
It’s all right if we don’t remember when we were born.
It’s all right if we write the same poem over and over.”

Robert Bly, from Talking Into The Ear Of A Donkey (via illusionsvk)

And here it is: I write you like a bullet in the gut.
I write you like you’ve always felt, like a weeping wound,
like something I know won’t heal right.
I write you like crooked stitches, like numbing shots,
like dents in my kneecap bones.
I write you furious, I write you writhing,
and I remember all the nights I spent wrapped up in you
like some damn stupid girl who didn’t know any better,
because I was the fight, the blood,
the sweat and grind.
Because you were the powder, the warning,
the match all aching to blow.
Because I was a damn stupid girl
who didn’t know any better.

I write you spitting out tobacco juice
on the dusty country road of our youth.
I write you all hands, all breath, all fingernails.
All gates, all chains, all iron bars.
All these dreams about your face, all these broken nights,
all the ways I’ve spent my life
trying to get rid of you.
You — all drug-addled, brow-beaten,
jugular scars.
Me — all stop. All no. All
please, please, please.

Jericho | d.a.s (via backshelfpoet)

“I was the one to pick up the matches,
yet I’m blaming fate for this charcoaled home.
We should have known our futile love
would go up in beautiful flames;
I should have known arson
when I saw the ashes in the air.

These hands, though cold, are mine
to create with. I never expected
to fall in love with destruction,
but baby, you had it written
across your calloused palms
from the moment I held them,
and I never planned on letting go.

We were dirt and demolition,
and my God, were we fatal,
and I still smile in my sleep
at the thought of our debris
and the wreckage you wore
underneath your fingernails.
But I don’t want to be scattered anymore.
I don’t want to be your mess.”

a.v., more poison than person

08-23 / 1:03 / 15 notes

i don’t think there’s any better compliment than das not comprehending actual tags on your poem tbh

08-20 / 23:23 / 1 note

heldinhishands said: I’m on mobile so I can’t search myself; I was wondering if you had a link to this challenge? I would really appreciate it!

It’s right here!

08-20 / 23:03 / 2 notes
Anonymous asked: what was the inspiration for the stranger/ mother poem? love your work by the way :)
Was I ever really your daughter? is a true story, actually. It was for the poetry challenge my friend and I made, and I think the prompt was for someone you wish you knew— I wrote about my biological mother, since I’m adopted and never knew her. Thanks, lovebug! I really appreciate it.
- a.v.
08-20 / 22:26 / 3 notes