Madam Life's a Piece in Bloom
Madam Life’s a piece in bloom Death goes dogging everywhere: Shes’s the tenant of the room He’s the ruffian on the stair. You shall see her as a friend, You shall bilk him once or twice; But he’ll trap you in the end, And he’ll stick you for her price. With his kneebones at your chest, And his knuckles in your throat, You would reason...
My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends- It gives a lovely light! Ms. fucking Edna St. Vincent Millay
all ready stripped down to the bare bones, done surveying the damage with satisfaction. next round: on the bar, menancing empty tumblers like a gang of thugs, just asking, “whaddya gonna do now, fucker? whaddya gonna do, hmmm?” deep breath. you go in for it. push back, screams and moans that sound like they’re coming, not from you, but from you vibrating...
on the bar
empty tumblers like a gang of thugs, just asking, “what are you going to do now?”
You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love...– Bob Marley (via megamazing) (via crazybeautiful) (via bon-bon) (via endosymbiotic)
heartbreak is like an orgasm
a cresendo of relief after building tension.
i was told today that even if you completely erase your hard drive like a million times with crazy software, it never fully gets erased and the information is still retrievable. and paper shredders? two CIA assistants, two days of work. the only real way to destroy information from your hard drive is to smash it with a hammer and then drill holes into it. as for a paper trail? burn that...
the act of dallying; flirting, toying, or trifling. OR a casual romantic or sexual relationship - brief or casual involvement with something.