Sext: Pull me into your chest. Inhale me like one of your cigarettes. Savor my taste; soak in my scent. Allow me to leave you gasping for fresh air.
Sext: I’m exhausted. I no longer wish to imagine your hands tracing the contour of my frame. Dominate me. Wake my body from the unconscious wasteland it has become. Please, climb inside of me and plant your presence.
Sext: I thought I was finished with inviting toxins in to taint my bloodstream, but holy shit, one look at you and I wanted to inject you straight into my veins.
Sext: I want to make a home of your lips.
Sext; Kiss me until the only thing I can taste is your name burned into my tongue.
Sext: I’ll look up at you through green eyes and I’ll feel you shake.
Sext: I feel you breathe “fuck” on to my neck and I moan your name into your ear.
Sext: Our bodies pressed against each other could write symphonies. I want to become the song you can’t get out of your head.
“Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.”—Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince (via flamingariel)
hi, im tumblr user jobhaver aka rebeka refuse. im posting a surgery fundraiser on this website today for facial feminization surgeries. i want to be able to afford feminizing surgical procedures for my face because i experience extremedysphoria about my face.
“I can’t think of anybody that I know that isn’t affected by this in a negative way.
I was particularly offended by Mr Hockey’s suggestion that a $7 visit to the doctor is a beer.
Actually, Mr Hockey, it’s cereal, and it’s milk.”—Alex McCrea, Thousands protest budget cuts in Melbourne (via sprinkledwords)