You Know How Peter Criss Doesn't Have Social Media Right? Do Any Of You Ever Wonder What He'd Post If

lemme say it again louder for those in the back:

if ur ‘reader’ has a name or has a specific description that is not mentioned beforehand then it’s 🗣 NOT 🗣 A 🗣 READER 🗣 INSERT 🗣 FIC!!!!! 🗣

I. no one wants bruised fruit, no one wants a bruised child either; no one wants fruit with broken skin, no straight-line scars; no one wants cherry-pit eyes, too dark and too wide; no one wants pomegranate-half lungs, heaving, catacombed in trickles of red, no one wants peach juice lies, leftover sweetness still sticky, dripping from my chin, doesn’t match my eyes; no one wants this rotten fruit heart, too full, overripe, dripping to burst, too messy, stains too dark. flies buzz around as if constellations encircling me, filling the darkness in my chest. II. blood and blackberry juice are the same color; which one do you think stained my last summer? did i drip sweet or salty? was mine a summer of unripe fruit or overripe desire? hunger swelled in me but what kind? i scratch my wrists open with blackberry thorns, overripe heart waiting to burst, red trickling from my veins, unripe fruit still on the branch, red trickling from its seeds. this sounds like a poem about sex this is not a poem about sex, this is a poem about how hunger and hatred feel kinda the same, hollow out your belly the same, shudder your fingers the same, crack your lips the same. this is a poem about having a hatred for hunger and a hunger for hatred. my mouth is crowded with razors; i have thrown away my teeth.

JUICE by s.l. (via goldenveins)

Happiness is:

Finding a book that you fall in love with on the first line

Laughter with friends

Sunrises and sunsets

Reaching that goal

Adventure

Palm licks from dogs

Walking on the beach at night

Music

Roasting marshmallows around a fire

Beautiful gardens

Watching that tv show that you love

Rewatching your favorite movies

Stargazing

Dancing alone

Midnight snacks

Bike rides in the summer

Kisses

Making a new friend

Candlelight

Discovering 

Love

Sleepovers

Freckles

Childhood memories

Swimming

Feeling peaceful on your own

Butterflies in your stomach

Cuddles

Warm summer air

Good food

Skin touching skin

Yellow flowers

Talking to someone until morning

Feeling confident

Long drives

Feeling young(again)

Smiles

Taking fun risks

Travel

Learning something interesting

Sticky hands from sweets

Cold lemonade on hot days

People love to say a broken clock is right two times a day but what they don’t tell you is that it’s wrong 863963 times a the day.

Zerkalo (1975)