Anonymous asked:

Are you okay? What's going on? Talk to us, we love you you can do this your strong <3

writing by ella Answer:

everythng :/ thank you kind anon <3

Anonymous asked:

Do what? Are you okay?

writing by ella Answer:

its a long story and not particularly :(

Dance

You are the rules breaking,
The game rewritten and whispered
Into my ear. Your eyes
A sexual serenade. Break
All my rules. It scares me and
Makes me want to fuck you
(And love you, which scares me
More). Touch my knee like
That one more time and my
Clothes will be ripped off. Kiss me
Goodbye like that again and my
Heart will turn to mush. My
Brain is doing overtime thinking
About your lips and what they
Will kiss next. It does not
Feel wrong. Hold me in the dark;
I am a spring pressed down
Ready to explode at your touch.

poetry spilled ink creative writing rejectscorner burningwords

I don’t even know where to start.
Memories flash and rip like paper napkins,
I am crying on a different face.
I make a brick wall my mouth and lie
Between swear words. Straight
Faces plastered on; I am a cardboard
Cut out. Kiss me soaked in vodka.
Fuck me dry. I picture things
That mean everything and nothing:
My words crumble and fall
Into the cracks in my palms.

poetry spilled ink creative writing rejectscorner burningwords

Every phone call is a death sentence;
The ring tone a funeral march.
I have fallen apart and will not put myself
Back together. We are all dead,
Here. In this time, there are no clocks.
I will burn one thousand times over
Before the sun shall wake up.

poetry spilled ink creative writing rejectscorner poem

guys this is me and one of my favourite people ever, Asa. (We did a music/poetry collab recently) he is the coolest bean and a little fluffy penguin and if you don&#8217;t love him I will poo on you

guys this is me and one of my favourite people ever, Asa. (We did a music/poetry collab recently) he is the coolest bean and a little fluffy penguin and if you don’t love him I will poo on you

me Asa swag selfie

Fingers

Your fingers have ruined me forever.
I look at your hands and see everything that you
have not yet made into music. A game of seduction.
Your fingers are a strip-tease dance I want to learn
off by heart. Your fingers are inside me
and my back is arching and even though it’s not
music I’d still call these moans I make a song. 
Forgive me for these metaphors. 
I’d dream about your hands.The fingers that erupt
goosebumps along my arms.The fingers
in my hair. I want your sex. I want your hands
all over me, on my bum. Secret like we’re in
a takeaway shop after the pub and you
cup it and make me want to fuck you right there
on the counter. In private like you don’t need
an excuse. When your hands are on
me everything in my head goes blank and
you know I’m shit at eye contact but when
your fingers trace my neck and you look at me
like that I could explode. Your hands have ruined me
forever. I cannot stop thinking about your
fingers, their playful dance of seduction. I am
naked at your touch, you have me under an
x-ray stare. Kiss me, next time you see me,
with the lights on. I want to see your hands dance.

poetry spilled ink creative writing rejectscorner poem