sad little girl

black stains your jacket, stains the pillow.

little fingers, tiny claws gripping to your sleeve.

you're holding a sad little girl in your arms, can't you see?
you're kissing a sad little girl's tears.

drowning

i tried to save a bit of winter for the coming months.
i tried to press snowflakes between the pages of my journal.
they only made my thoughts run down the page.
they only made them cry.
my mind has been a little leaky ever since.
forgive me.

i'm sorry

i once loved somebody i didn't know.
she tasted like winter and smelled of clean sheets, clean air.
she walked me to the bus, kissed me with her eyes (green, framed by the loveliest set of eyelashes) and under the street lights, promised me a Leonard Cohen song.

we knew each other for a little while after.
we sat under a tree, the grey air was too heavy.
i went home that day and cried myself dry.

maximalist

souviens-toi qu'un jour tu mourras by rabbitmilk

Prince Charming by rabbitmilk featuring wayfarer sunglasses

you're the reason i've been travelin' on by rabbitmilk featuring pleated shorts

you can now find me on polyvore!

"you are my dolores"

the times i've spent smoking so many cigarettes i could barely stand, watching the smoke curl around my fingers, filling my lungs, filling the air, dissipating to never be seen again, listening to erik satie and watching the leaves move and move and move.

feeling my heart beat, and feeling his heart beat and her heart beat and the smell of roses and incense and sweat and fluttering eyelids and gasping for air between kisses.

a cup of tea and my bed and a book i didn't quite understand and feeling tears dry on my cheeks and the sadness and the loneliness and then, later, the relief-
and more tears.

bathtubs filled with warmth and ecstasy, exploring, closing my eyes and feeling everything.

my youth will be rose scented. soft and tender, sensual, like a peach.

from now on i want nothing but late nights and lace dresses, and pink with a rock&roll edge, pleasure in pain. i want my entire being to reflect my youth and my sexuality and everything tied together by a delicate ribbon (or maybe bound by a spiked collar). i used to want to grow up and to leave but i'll stay. "you are what you love" so here's what i want to be:

weekends

s&m

china's avant-garde VISION magazine got an after-party remix.

in this spread, new york-based photographer/artistic director Michael Donovan captures sex-infused scenes oozing with sadomasochistic vibes. and, to top it all off, the shoot boasts clothing from innovative designers such as Jil Sander and Calvin Klein.

scenes from last night-

i only wish more photographers would explore this realm of 'almost-erotica', the beautiful controversy that leaves you wondering the fate of the submissive female under the domination of the male. although the theme is quite risky, i praise the photographer for exploring something borderline-pornographic, and indulging us with just enough lust and passion, without overwhelming the viewer. Donovan really walks a fine line between horror and seduction, playing with grungy, experimental shots that look almost look accidental. ten thousand claps for Donovan and VISION alike.