imma-sensitive-btch:

katarinahime:

katarinahime:

This MIGHT be the worst day of my life

And that’s really saying something with the shit I grew up with so 🤷🏻‍♀️😣

Okay it wasn’t the WORST.

My cat was in an accident and dislocated his hip and tore the ligaments in his knee. He’s having is amputated tomorrow but I’m going to Boise for my brothers wedding. So I can’t take care of him.

But he’s going to be okay.

So while I’m very sad I didn’t have a complete and utter breakdown so I’m mean, silver linings and all.

Send my cat some love.

All the love!! I’m so sorry!!

Thank you so much! ❤️

Oh my gosh ur poor kitty!!

Hurricane

I don’t believe in true love

Or in soulmates

But I know what happened to me

And I believe in addiction.

You did not screech or beseech

With kissable lips

And raised eyebrow

With clever fingers set your snare.

I was yours.

You hooked me

With the efficiency of a hurricane,

I became forever yours.

– Vagabond Prophet

@delightfulharmonypoetry

How crafty, I seem. But I do not recall it quite that way.

Around the corner you might find him, they said to me.
Turn the right or left and there he will be
Cautiously I inched around each turn that came about
For fear that a pair of eyes and lips would wipe me clear out

There was no corner when I saw you
Just the bones of trees reaching to sky
The brown and gold of burnt grass lost to summer
With clouds ashen blue bearing no lie

Honey gold, ice blue you smiled
They flocked to you, bees to flower
Children to sugar, and all the while…

Roots became of my feet,
Whispers buzzed in my ears,
The triple flap of a hummingbird’s wing where my heart used to be

All that time wasted, peeking around corners
But it was the trees that hid you, the clouds that gave you asylum
Attacked without warning, I was
An ambush

Run, said my mind, rational where the rest of me set to fire
Run, for there he is.
There he is there is he is.

Mister Right.

I am glad I tore the roots of my feet from the earth,
Spun on my heel and set to fleeing
For while you were Mister Right

I was yet Miss Not-Ready.

@vagabondprophet

concept playlists;

winterblues:

you’re lying on mossy forest floors, slowly transforming into a nymph, your fingers are turning into flower vines, your limbs are bleeding honey & growing thick skins of sepia bark, wings sprout in between your shoulder blades. your breath sounds like the wind. fireflies litter the air above you

you’re hold up in an abandoned church, outside there’s a raging storm & a horde of zombies roaming around, pressing up against the entrance doors. you & a small band of survivors are staying inside for the night in hopes to ride the bad weather out. you take first watch & listen to these tunes on an old ipod while everyone else tries to get some rest & the undead crawl outside, awaiting the taste of human flesh.

you’re in your boyfriend’s pickup. he’s asleep in the passenger seat, you’re driving without a destination in mind & you have the window down as you let the cool night air whip against your face in a state of pleasant delirium

you’re on a rooftop somewhere, there’s 5 am air on your skin, streetlights glint like coins at the bottom of wishing wells from where you sit. you’re feeling peaceful for the first time all week

you’re lying in the middle of a crop circle forty miles from your grandma’s old house waiting for aliens to come and abduct you

it’s four pm in the afternoon and you’ve got your head in the lap of the only boy you’ve ever loved & you’re reading jane eyre & he’s sipping on tea & it’s the kind of weather where it’s just warm enough for you to pretend it’s summer & it’s drizzling & you’re listening to the rain beat softly against the windowpanes

you’re curled up in bed as it pours outside, there’s a citywide blackout and the last candle you had left has finally blown out, but you feel strangely at peace within the warm, all-consuming dark

you’re making out in the bathroom of a house party with someone that makes you feel like you’ve swallowed the sun

you’re standing amidst a city you burned to the ground. the apocalypse has come & gone. all that’s left is ashes & mortar & sad bones but you’re feeling empowered. a slow smile creeps up your lips as you realize how you’ve always wanted to watch the world burn

you wander into wonderland and now you’re suddenly being crowned fairie queen, apparently there’s a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled

it’s mid morning but it’s dark outside from the rain. you thought the tapping on the window was from the rain but it’s actually a crow that flickers out of sight when you look directly at it

you’re sipping on cherry cola by the pool on a lazy sunday & you’re feeling younger than you’ve ever been

you’re summoning old ghosts in an abandoned parking lot on a smoggy thursday night

….i did not write these descriptors but wish desperately that I had. Kudos.

vagabondprophet:

R.I.P.

One year ago today

You decided to go

Sometimes I’m in disbelief

I didn’t know

So we weep

With tears for you

As an ocean opens up

To swallow you

Gravity reversed, taking things away

While your demons on fear fed

Maybe thinking you’d find

a place for your head

Did you feel cold

And lost in desperation?

When you were standing

in the wake of devastation

We wonder what you’d say

About this grief unraveled

Maybe ‘weep not

For roads untraveled’

In the wastelands of today

When there’s nothing left to lose

You showed us how to survive

That’s a truth not a ruse

No I don’t know

Why is everything so heavy

How much water is too much

For this splintering levee

You helped so many stay afloat

And keep climbing their ladder,

Wherever you are please know

In the end, it really did matter.

– Vagabond Prophet

– Rest In Peace Chester Bennington, we miss you.

blubberberryshakapow:

SasuHina Month ♡ Day 2: Baby OTP

Akskfikwnfoellsll!!!!!! I love this so much

delightfulharmonypoetry:

I have lost my voice.

In case ya’ll were wondering what the hell happened to Inky, here are the deets:

-inky has too many children in her care

-inky needs clones, multiple clones. One specifically for sleeping only to recharge the other dozen

-inky has not just real babies but muse babies all jostling for attention so that no one ever let’s inky get a word in edgewise

-which is why Inky has literally, Ariel-stylez lost her voice

-i am now officially mute

-cool beans cool beans

-help. Me.

Update: waiting at the doctors office feeling like roadkill with a bad hangover. At least no one can hear my cursing.