What To Do When Your Boyfriend’s Asshole Best Friend Says, “Hey, Never Trust Anything That Bleeds For Seven Days And Doesn’t Die,
OR The Only Poem I’ll Ever Write About Periods.
Don’t excuse him because he’s had
at least three lite beers
and is sweating through his black button down
that his mom or exgirlfriend
probably bought him.
Don’t excuse him because he’s been turned down
by the last six girls he went on dates with
after meeting them on tindr
with a picture that’s seven years old
Don’t excuse him because
he’s usually such a nice guy
because you don’t want to be a bitch
because you don’t want to cause a scene
because when you were seventeen
your sister told you
no one likes an angry feminist
Let me explain something to you.
Every goddamn motherfucking month since I was eleven,
a part of me
tore itself to shreds
ripped itself apart inside me
and then remade itself.
So yes, I bleed for seven days
and I don’t die
You know what else can do that?
Things of legend.
Fuck, I can even
So I say, never trust anything that can’t
bleed for seven days and not die.
You know what that makes it?
So let’s see, hon,
What you’re made of.
If you can bleed for seven days
and not die.
Rip out his jugular with your teeth.
And when he bleeds for seven seconds
spit on his corpse and say,
I thought not.
Katherine Tucker (via sirblack)
I feel like I could be friends with this woman
My switch flipped. I can’t stop shaking.
I can’t stop.
…please send help, God…
i’M READING ABOUT GOATS IN MYTHOLOGY/FOLKLORE AND I FOUND OUT IN THE MIDDLE AGES GOATS ‘WERE SAID TO WHISPER LEWD SENTENCES IN THE EARS OF SAINTS’ AND I JUST
NOW IT ALL MAKES SENSE
I was wondering when people were going to realize that “you breed with the mouth of a goat” means “you talk dirty when you fuck.”
THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE OH MY GOODNESS
Reading through my poetry on the train today, I realized something incredibly shocking. I didn’t know how to handle the realization, and I still sort of don’t.
I realized I had been wanting to break up with you for over a year. Since about late July of last year, in fact.
I realized that about three months prior to that, I had been writing poetry about how I wished you would stop and notice my breaking heart and mind that was falling apart.
And I don’t know how to take it. I really don’t.