Delor.

buried so deep even god won’t find me

home - pencey prep

‘‘Get Busy Living (In The Purgatory Of Your Real Life)’’

Once upon a time, I was a young boy. Born under a nighttime haze. With skin of stardust and tears like burning oil. A soul so bright nothing could damper it.

Now my soul is full of pallor. And my skin is grey. I have memories formed of the harshest sunlit days and the coldest moonshine nights. I could only grow into the threadbare skin they gave me.

~

I think back to nothing fond at all. These days the darkest parts of my brain are put together like a jigsaw puzzle filled with missing pieces and misplaced optimism. 

He is my only light. A boy just like me but infinitely more perfect. Beautiful, confident, sewn together with golden threads. Clean and pure. The antithesis of everything I've become.

‘’Get busy living’’, they tell me. But how am I supposed to live if he's not here to pave the trail ahead of me with his golden, elegant glow? You’d understand if you ever stood in the full glory of his love. Without him, it's not living, not really. It’s only a day-by-day slideshow, built to exist and li[v]e. 

~

I pale in comparison to all that he is. (He is the best part of me.) My blood is motor oil and my scars are rust. My features are burns against untainted, snow white flesh. I was made for the purpose of art, yet I have become what I always feared was the ugliest part of me. 

My soul is corrosive. It’s eating me from the inside out. Bones break and hearts shatter. But I’ll serve my broken body on a silver platter, in the hopes that he will take me as I am. That he will accept what little I have to offer.

~

He’s made me that boy again. The person I lost over the years. (Could I finally start to live?) The sky is full once more, lit up with the light of ten thousand galaxies. He is the man in the moon, watching over me even when he's not standing beside me.

~

My heart beats in time again. The stars align and I’m given back the matches that gave me that flicker to begin with. A small fire starts up in my ribcage, and I think that maybe I’ll have a bright light leading my way once again. Something to keep me warm and to give my soul back its glow. Stardust skin and the feeling that I’ll never be alone

Untitled

The worst part is I don't even have her face, I have his. I wish I had the kindness of her eyes. Instead, every day I wake up and the mirror is just another reminder of him. His brown eyes, his sharp angled face, and his spirit. His hands, his feet. His anger. His rage. It's all mine. All of it. Sometimes it makes me hate myself. Everyone thinks I'm his carbon copy. "Just like his father," they say. Well they don't know how much it hurts me. They don't know what he really was. They don't know the pain and bruises I carry around because of him to this day. Nobody lived the life me and my mom did. They saw the best side of him. We suffered through the worst. I can honestly say I'm glad he's gone now. And all I want is to erase his face. It was all him. And he was the sum of it all—he was the only mistake my mother made.

A fuck-you to RFK;

An autistic person will never write a poem, so everything I’ve ever written doesn’t exist. It’s just shit. 

They will never play baseball, so my memories of playing a game with my friends don’t mean anything. I never played a game I loved, a game I was damn good at. It was all a figment of my wild imagination. 

They’ll never hold a job, so there are thousands of doctors and scientists and engineers who aren’t real to him. 

Autism destroys families, so no matter what mine says, they’re lying. They don’t love me. Rather than death or illness, my mind is what will ruin it all. Even though we’ve been happy for 17 years so far. 

It’s an individual tragedy as well, which must mean that me and my bestfriends’ lives are meaningless. A waste of space. Of oxygen. 

Fucking hell.

If RFK (a man stuck in ‘55) gets his way, this police state that we’re living in will just get worse. He wants to use his research to make eugenics America’s policy. That’s what “curing” autism is. There is no cure. There’s only death. Death that should never even be a possibility. A thought. 

No one should be persecuted, or have their genes “eliminated” from the gene pool because of some uneducated twat. He doesn’t get to decide who will be born. He doesn’t get to manufacture the next generation like this is some kind of fascist, Nazi regime. Even in the most clinically “severe” cases, an autistic person is far from stupid or helpless. They are We are people, like everyone else. And it’s not our fault he doesn’t know that. 

It’s not “americans” okay? There are some of us who are fucking devastated by this. I’m gay, and I have friends who are too. Some of the most important people in the world to me are Hispanic, female, and/or transgender. And I’m fucking terrified for them. I’m terrified for myself. So everyone saying “americans” suck and that they’re disgusted can go fuck themselves, cause I’m disgusted too. If you think people like me chose this, this is the last thing any of us wanted. And I have to go to school today and be surrounded by people who hate queer people and I have to hold it together. Cause I shouldn’t show emotion cause that’s “feminine” and “weak” and I’m already fucking gay so why would I add to that? There’s a pit in my stomach. And the way this works is I’m queer first, an American second, cause that’s what I’ll be given shit for. That’s what’ll matter when it comes down to it. Being american won’t protect me when they decide coming after trans people isn’t enough, that the whole LGBT community is a “problem”. The worst part is I had hope. I don’t know why, but I thought that maybe it wouldn’t turn out like this, and now I’m fucking heartbroken. 

I’m gonna be honest, chief, that was the most punk thing I’ve seen from an artist in a long time

Demolition Man

I hate him.

(the chokehold this album has on me is crazy, man)

will people PLEASE stop arguing with me (in real life) and trying to convince me I am gay?? I pulled a Misha Collins. I walked it back. I officially became the only man in Texas ever to come out as straight. So fucking believe me and leave me alone about it. I’m so repressed even if I was into men, I wouldn’t tell you!

also I realize ppl are gonna see this and argue with me about it, but uh, I’m just irritated rn…

Reddit just gave me a THREE DAY ban. I hate my life