more where that came from

(original posts r by urs truly, a.j. bradley.)

Joan Crawford in Our Dancing Daughters (1928).


Joan Crawford in Our Dancing Daughters (1928).

I call it sex
because I don’t know
how else to say
terrified of dying.
Silence ruins
everything. It says:
you will not get your wings this way
not the wings you want
and you want
more than anybody.
I have wanted
many unfair things.
What is most unfair
is that the Earth is still okay
with me being here
I think, and even
encourages it.
Hello ocean,
you have asked me
not to die, but I swim
in neon pools
that are happy
to kill me.

—Melissa Broder, Satisfy the Desolate (via camilla-macauley)

(via kdecember)


I have a poem about dogs in the first issue of Mt. Island! There are also poems by feral-lovelies/wolf-lanterns Emily O’Neill & Cassandra de Alba. You can read the whole issue digitally here. You can order the whole (gorgeous) issue physically here. Let’s get weird.