Sunshine-units - Sunshine Units

the mask is slipping

Wednesday

    That night something crawled between my ribs and whispered to my heart until the blood in my veins was sullied with secrets.

Now when I scrape my knees the wounds never clot; they flow and seek and hunger.

To whom do I owe the bitter symbols etched upon my skin?

To whom do I owe the soil caked beneath my fingernails?

To whom do I owe the salt always layered on my teeth?

    The wind howls and it howls and I can’t help but wonder if it’s finally come for me.

Would things be so bad if it did?

    Point anywhere on the map and that’s where I am, I’m only solid here.

I could disappear like a magic trick if I truly and fully believed, but as with most things, even minute levels of doubt ground me to reality.

    If I decided to never sleep again I would spend my nights thinking of the sea and of colors and of all the music that will only be born long after I am buried.

Thinking of snake skins and the smell of Autumn and the feel of bone-deep hunger.

How easy it would be; to wake up one day for nothing to ever be the same again.

from now on your tumblr nickname is whatever you get from this sexual identity generator  ☆

when a house is both hungry and awake, every room becomes a mouth

Today I met happiness

FIGHT CLUB AS AN ALLEGORY FOR INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA by silas denver melvin

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Look, if you're having a bad day, here's a 6,000 year old pig-shaped pottery pot.

I want someone to make one of these new sterile teen gay romance shows on Netflix but halfway through they pull a Doki Doki Literature Club and it turns into a fucked up fourth wall breaking psychological thriller that deconstructs the heteronormative and middle class ideals of the genre