February 2012
143 posts
|HOLY HORROR|: It smells of old dust and dampness.... →
frauholle:
It smells of old dust and dampness. Coiled steel, painted horses, the moaning of old springs and pinched flesh. Something crouches sexless and amorphous. A flight of stairs winds too tight, too dark, too narrow for breath to reach. Dissociative rigid amnesiatic. She makes a better doll than a…
“You are always ticking inside of me and I dream of you more often than I don’t....”
– Sierra DeMulder, Unrequited Love Poem (via bambiguts)
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