I "plant Your Lips On My Body Like A Flower And Let Them Wither Ii “and I’ll Paint The Color Of

Nothing’s worse than pining over someone who used to be yours.

nailed (eusie.)

This will be one hell of a fucking ride

a.k.a. This was supposed to be hidden / under my bed / along with stories / I refuse to read before I sleep

Standing in front of a mirror / I see myself eyeing every inch of me / the black lace covering / almost nothing / and the music on my back / is glorious

Then there’s a knock / below my feet / as the wind settles behind the curtains of my bedroom window

It takes a second then a minute / blood flowing in a rush / heartbeat flooding my eardrums / as I parade down the stairs

He stands there like a kitten / his shadow touching the back of the door

He’s breathing fire as he enters inside / then our breaths waltz / in the same air-y music / then we feel the same desperate burn on our veins / the same shyness flush on our cheeks

A beat / a whisper / then pants begin travelling in the hope of more / of more bare skin / of more blazing touches / of more sight of swollen lips

I lead him to my room / catching his fingers once inside / placing them on my shoulder blades / I lead him / to have himself kiss me wet

(eusie.)

Itagaki Rihito 板垣李光人 (2021) Hair, makeup & styling by Takae Kamikawa

things you don’t know: if he loves you back you think he might

Tell me lies a little more Make me cry a little more Break my heart a little more So I can love you a little less

September 18, 2013 (eusie.)

Here's to someone, pt. 2

Forward. You are a once again a shade of blue, but with a little bit of green. This time I came close in hue. Now I know how your depths go, so maybe drowning with you isn’t scary.

Rewind. But I still look away when you try to hold me.

Stop. But I really hope this is the last time. But maybe not.

(eusie.)

sumesex naman ata di murder eh

// murder naman yata eh, hindi sex //

This is about Don’t even think about it, yes?

Hi. I’ll just be in the corner and contemplate about what I did wrong. And probably study about read between the lines? DUNNO. Good evening

@bookhay: “Nalibugan ka lang bes hahahaha”

if you can read this in heaven (a eulogy)

i. i won’t tell her name. no, i won’t. but i will tell you about the patterns encrypted on her skin that i have tried to read. i will tell you how it went when i found out she’s gone to the moments i can’t remember anymore.

ii. i didn’t think she is cold as winter when i traced her backbones while she was asleep, i didn’t think that her bones will eat me when i tried to kiss the scars inside of her; what i thought was that she would be happily singing melodies as she shows me the remaining life inside her veins but i am half way between what i think and the truth

iii. because she is an unsent letter written by a star who fell in love with the moon. she is an unsent letter, full of tears, lost and blown away.

iv. to where she landed is where the moon shines the most, it blinded her and let her forget what she was meant to do; to where she landed is where she became a star and she had thought that the moon is the knight of day that saved her

v. so she fell in love, and she fell in love more and more each night. her tears became dusts that continued to blind her and poisoned her to think about forever. she drew a map within her edges, this is for her to look at when she’s lost in the moon’s light. she blew away the words that her mind whispered every day — the words that wanted to warn her. yes, she tried to be new. yes, she tried to become lovable. yes, she wants to be loved by the moon.

vi. but everything didn’t go the way she wanted and now she’s a dead body with a dying soul; the moon never looked at her, only shined for her, that’s why she crashed herself but only ended up being bones and a rib cage.

vii. this is when i stopped reading her like what i always do when i read books. i stopped reading her because i might cry. i said i’ll come back to where i paused and read her until the end but now she’s gone and i can’t remember anymore. no, i don’t want to remember. what i want is to follow her because the sound of her bones cracking and the smell of her unknown stories are calling me.

viii. so if you can read this in heaven, i want you to know that i’m talking about you; i want you to know that i’ll be following you.

(eusie.)

a feeling: “nothing lost but something missing”

my throat tastes of rust and i'm drunk on my tears

my cries dance on the rooftop and i'm a high tide on this silent night

there is a rustling inside of me that doesn't stop

and sometimes it ends up as an aching a yearning for an unknown

this skin keeps on burning and i’m still hurting

but i don’t why

(eusie.)

Don’t even think about it

The two of them are on top of the world, and with only a little bit more, they’ll be on the edge. No one else knows where they are. Instead, the music circulating on their veins take them away from the fact that she is with him. No one else knows that the town will forever be dripped in red starting from that night. No one else knows.

She looks at him though, as if he created the universe with his smile. Her ribcage breaks from how fast her heart beats. It is chaos to be in love with him, but she doesn’t know it yet. Tick tock — Her breathing halts  — tick tock  — after he sings her name  — tick tock  — and she thinks her whole existence will rupture —  tick tock  — with the sound of his voice. She barely hears someone screaming at the strike of midnight. And with another tick of the clock, her mind becomes a black hole.

He knows he has this effect on her, of course, and his soul rejoices with it. But does he put his lips on hers? No. Instead, he caresses her fingers slowly and softly. Then he whispers, “Like waves crashing on your shores.” He reaches for her neck, and he sucks in her smell. “Like a storm coming your way,” he continues. Then as his nose ventures from her jawline to her cheeks, he goes, “Like a gun sketching on your face.”

The night appears to be calm. Both of them appear to be calm. She appears to be calm. But —

The night feels flustered. Both of them feel aroused. She feels dizzy. And he feels victorious. He starts —

He tells her she is a treasure chest that shouldn’t be hidden from the world. So he opens her up like her insides are gold. She feels like glowing. He kisses her curves in between like knives cutting through skin. It’s a ticklish feeling, she thinks, as a satisfying warmth flows down to her stomach. He pulls her out. And if she was struggling to breathe ever since he kissed her skin, she struggles more so as her lungs die from his touch. But she still feels like glowing, as if she is the sun. She is the sun to his universe.

This time, he finally he kisses her lips as his fingers linger on her cheeks. She notes to herself that he tastes painfully delicious. He looks down on her and she blushes. She covers her heart, embarrassed that maybe he can see his own name on it. But he can see it, and so he travels in between her heartstrings, planting his teeth. He smiles at her after, and her heart stops right there. But she manages to kiss him, and she gets dizzy again. She feels him punching something, but she calls out to the universe. Her moaning harmonizes with the night’s melodies.

And then, “I’m in love with you,” comes out from her abused and wet lips as it reddens more than a red sea. “I’m in love with death,” comes out from his as he horribly presses hers together. “Then I am too,” she continues, but her words disappear with the wind’s cries.

Tick tock — There is silence, then a couple more exchange of murmured words — Tick tock.

The two of them are on top of the world, and after crawling gracefully on this starless night, she finds herself on the edge. And she falls down. No one hears her groaning as she lands on the scattered stars on the ground. No one even notices. Until everyone does. But no one knows what happened. No one.

Six hours later. Six days then. Six weeks after. No one still knows. And no one knows that someone knows. That he knows.

He remembers their last words. He remembers his heart dancing on fire. “Don’t mention it,” he says after she thanks him. He remembers her eyes bleeding and burning. “Won’t even think about it,” she says before she closes her eyes.

No one else still knows what happened that night. No one even notices his murderous eyes prying on everyone who asks him about her. Because, no one will ever admit it, but everyone is probably in love with him too. So no one else questions when he answers, “It’s suicide.”

(           k & eusie.)