Cupid Despises The Fact That You're Not Addicted To Anything...or Anyone

Cupid despises the fact that you're not addicted to anything...or anyone

Hloni

More Posts from Ngelo-b and Others

ngelo-b

7 years ago

I daydream about you a lot but that’s all you will be– a daydream.

Lukas W. // You are just a dream (via somepiecesofmyheartandsoul)

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ngelo-b

5 years ago

Not to get controversial or anything but can we stop with making fun of women being abused by their husbands and playing it off as ‘straight culture’

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ngelo-b

1 year ago

And, if we're to share ten thousand meals, darling I hope it's in laughter.

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barbie

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ngelo-b

9 years ago

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ngelo-b

1 year ago

I want to wear more red. I want hope. I want a sure hand in mine at the march. I want the end of genocides. I want videos of rubble played in reverse sucking magnificent structures from blurred pixels. I want love in my inbox, love in my mouth, love in everyone’s mouths. I want a squeeze of lemon. I want hot. I want fast. I want a small steel cup between my fingers. I want fresh ginger. I want romanticism. I want performance. I want our friends, across the city, in their flats, in their rooms, laughing, the lights on, their voices loud and clear. I want mismatched silverware. I want to stay until close. I want the needle in my skin. I want to be the giver and the receiver. I want the irretrievable. I want butter on thick bred with salt. I want blushing. I want a clear sky, long grass, lying on your stomach with my knees up and my hat pulled over my eyes. I want wet soho streets at 3am reflecting red light. I want stripping down to my t-shirt on the tube. I want late-blooming. I want a mirror ball over our heads. I want a dark room full of smoke. I want you laughing in my mouth. I want abolition. I want thrashing in the crowd dancing screaming. I want the email not to find me. I want a perfect pint of guinness on a freezing day. I want ecstasy. I want the real thing. I want a ming vase filled with pistachio cream. I want poetry. I want greedy greedy hope. I want my one time passcode to be coincidentally meaningful. I want your voice notes. I want ridiculousness. I want tomatoes so fresh they could burst in your hands. I want to walk barefoot on the tiles. I want the collapse of a decade of tory power. I want the next breath to be easy. I want a bag big enough to take what I need. I want olive oil. I want the drum beat on a monotonous loop. I want the city. I want eye contact through warped glass. I want plums in the icebox. I want the smell of fire in the air at night. I want fingers under the waistband. I want one more round before we go. I want red ribbon. I want debris of love. I want a party where no one knows anyone. I want warm water. I want to save you at the end.

Last year I wrote wants rather than resolutions. I liked the piece so this time I sat and wrote whatever came to mind, until I wrote 'end', which felt like a natural place to, well,

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ngelo-b

8 years ago

Real beauty

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ngelo-b

4 years ago

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ngelo-b

9 years ago

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ngelo-b

1 year ago

High key wanna see butterflies