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(Untitled)
critique.
spill it here. -
some things you do for love love love.
The door is light brown, a little faded, and absolutely disgusted with him. What are you doing here, faggot? it seems to say, the grain of the wood forming the right shapes for hundreds of intensely frowning faces, and honestly Isaiah withers a little. The door is absolutely right and they both know it: that scarf, those pants, only a real flamer ( Read more... ) -
how to start a fire.
When the little fuck has left his room, gone down the stairs, crawled into the hole he would call his motel room, Isaiah slinks back to his room and punches the wall. He hits hard enough that time seems to slow for a second, like he’s in a damn Matrix movie, and he feels his knuckles pulling apart, the sick stretching of his tendons, and he ( Read more... ) -
pros and cons
It’s probably a sign that he thinks of making up with Leo a day after kicking him out of the apartment.
It was a graceful destruction of their relationship, as far as Isaiah was concerned. The day they let him go, he bolted right to his apartment and collapsed on the bed, too tired, too raw to bother about the fact that Leo’s shit was everywhere ( Read more... ) -
honne & tatemae
He doesn’t use them but lets them use him, or at least that’s what he thinks sometimes when he feels bad. When he feels guilty. Guilt is something he isn’t supposed to have, not only is he a guy who is actually not a fairy but he’s a low-life, he’s a bottom feeding rat and he’s never tried to glam up his job, he should be remorseless and ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
I need a man
To make me moan
To make me bad
I need a man
To drive me slow
To drive me mad.When he woke up, every morning it stank ( Read more... )