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Matea wrote about the word centerpiece 1 year, 5 months ago
don’t touch it like that it deserves more than our dirty fingertips, your angry suicide plots. don’ lick your lips or kiss the ground. to die is more than you will know in your lifetime.
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Matea wrote about the word bow 1 year, 10 months ago
she tugs the loops, fingers ravishing the smooth satin. “i’m ready.” she smiles, heels red as the devil’s breast. she tiptoes down the steps, and meets the man at the door with a kiss.
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Matea posted an update: 1 year, 10 months ago
Who knew you could slaughter an abstract thought the way a butcher slices pig meat?
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Matea wrote about the word plague 1 year, 10 months ago
coughing, she’s hacking away, her lungs are spitting out from between her teeth as she runs and runs and runs away, far away from this bitter plague. the city burns behind her back, the flames licking up the grass.
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Matea posted an update: 2 years ago
”Domestic” isn’t a very inspiring word, in my field.
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Matea wrote about the word domestic 2 years ago
hands meet and rest between each other. are they in love? the dog yaps. the fence is starch white and the car is unstained by pigeon scat. dinner bakes in an oven. the child lays eight feet below.
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Matea posted an update: 2 years ago
I have recommitted myself to an old fanfiction I wrote in seventh grade, and am rewriting a lot of it. I miss parts of the way I used to write – like how easily I wrote four pages in an hour. Now it takes a painstaking two to get half a page of goddamn poetry out of me.
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Matea wrote about the word domestic 2 years ago
she smiles as she scrubs the pans, her own hands rubbed raw. she smiles as she dusts the bookcases and sweeps the floors. but she is not happy – the domestic housewife.
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Matea wrote about the word mole 2 years ago
it’s like a scar, she thinks, poking at it. the brown beauty mark left by sun-god kisses– a mole, one her fingertips worry and prod. how daft the world to not be so amused by apparent ugliness.
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Matea posted an update: 2 years ago
a, b, c, d, e, f, and g, all these letters are what mean the most to me. they make me write, they make me sing, and above all they define me.
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Matea wrote about the word tempted 2 years ago
i’m tempted to run -
i want to get away from here.
home is where the pain is.
home is where the lies live.
i want to leave. -
Matea posted an update: 2 years ago
”I’m an asshole!” ”He’s a real fucking asshole!”
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Matea wrote about the word tempted 2 years ago
the ropes dig into my neck, the salt of the sea stinging raw flesh opened by rough fibers. i want this, and yet i cannot have it. i want it the way he wanted it before his temptation was satisfied.
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Matea wrote about the word tempted 2 years ago
smile through the sermon, pretend you are not affected by the scalding wounds left by tender kisses. she is not here, and it is sin to want her around your waist the way you do right now.
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Matea wrote about the word tempted 2 years ago
hands brush. lips touch. brains boggle.
skin touches skin.
hearts do not connect –
lust does.
how futile, to believe
they will be redeemed. -
Matea wrote about the word eyeliner 2 years ago
he wore it dark, thick raccoon rings around his lids. i used to ask him why, and he said it was a statement. i asked if it meant he was dead. he said it meant he was dead inside. i still can’t see how you can be breathing and still dead, i can’t tell if [...]
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Matea wrote about the word eyeliner 2 years ago
hers was blue. it wasn’t a bright blue or a dark blue – it was a vibrant blue. flecks of glitter stuck to it, shimmering silver. isn’t she just perfect, i’d smile. she wasn’t.
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Matea wrote about the word dinosaur 2 years ago
they’re little plastic things, crawling and roaring with as much gusto as they can muster. i remember being told they weren’t real and laughing, “then what is?” their world is mine and mine is theirs, these little vibrant dinosaurs.
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Matea wrote about the word bandana 2 years ago
the little moments are the ones he appreciates most. the feel of a balmy breeze. the splash of a dive into cold water. the warmth of a campfire. the end of a tree climb. he forgets when and where he lost his best friend along the way.
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Matea wrote about the word bandana 2 years ago
the wax is dripping and sloshing about in a hot medeley in the pan below the candle as it burns the black bandana. he wasn’t ever a religious person, but symbolism felt real. this is how he divorces his past.
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