Walter Krunkite? Incorrigible!

If I can stop one heart from breaking
I shall not live in vain
If I can ease one life the aching
or cool one pain

Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again
I shall not live in vain

A man is never violent. A man is patient. A man is gentle. He asserts his feelings and stands up for himself but can do these things with words not hands, or belts, or fire pokers. A man is a creature that shows greatest strength when allowing himself to be vulnerable. A man is respectful and protective and knows how to balance those two traits equally. A man will never extort, will never threaten, will never intimidate. A man will never force himself upon a woman and treats his lovers with the best intentions. A man is a good and wholesome thing. Manhood is earned like a badge of honor. There is a man in ever male, just waiting to get out.

I love you like a baby deer born in winter.

I love you like a hurricane.

Like a grenade explosion.

Like the fog.

Like a field of poppies.

Like the autumn.

And not doing anything

My head hurts

This is is for my darling Scottie who recently wrote a story with my name in it. I met him at writing camp with a lot of other wonderfully weird characters and I feel that since I haven’t done him justice with how much he means to me. I mean, who else laughs at meme faces as interpreted by a sixteen year old girl or enjoys pillow forts as much as I do? This is truly an astounding individual. Caring, funny, sensitive and cheeks that stretch to mind boggling proportions when he smiles. I am protective over him in fiercest mama bear fashion and he inspires hope in me in ways he probably doesn’t even realize. So I implore him, keep that beautiful chin up and don’t let the world get you down because 

ME GUSTA SCOTTIE

I’m sorry fucking sucks. It doesn’t do anything. It doesn’t even sound good. It’s a completely overused and overrated statement, but guess what? It’s your only god damn option. The worst part is I knew this was coming. I KNEW I was gonna fuck up. I was doing so damn good though. I was doing ok at least which is good by my standards. God.

He deserves so much better than me.

While I was supposed to be cleaning my room this evening I caught a very disturbing 8 part documentary on the Westboro Baptists. I can not articulate how vile I find the ideas of this group of people but for some reason I was moved to hug them. I want the poor kids getting brainwashed into this that no matter how much their parents insist they are Soldiers of God that the world isn’t out to get them. I want them to know that no matter how much they spread a message of hate that love will always concur. Not to mention, they think people hating them is a good thing. So why would we give them what they want?

If  only I could have been there when we were four

on the playground

when things were simple and my accent would’ve made you laugh.

If only I could have been there in third grade

when the ball wouldn’t go straight when you threw it

I would have sat with you and 

gotten you out of your head

If only I could have been there in middle school

when the cold awareness grabbed your bones

I could have kissed you with a blush of red

and strapped you to a mirror

until you saw what I see

If only I could have been there freshman year

and welcomed you home everyday

I would have loved you the way you deserved 

and made you brownies every day.

If only I could be there now

to fix the broken things

fight for you the way you deserve.

I want one. If someone procured me a hedgehog, I would get in their van without question. They are fucking adorable in an offbeat way. Like me.

I want two hedgehogs.

That’s right, two.

I would name one Pindsvin because that is Gaelic for hedgehog and would become a pun when I shortened it to Pinny. He would be a proper gentleman and wear a tiny monocle and shit on his adorable-as-balls little eye. 

I would name the other one Antoine. And he’d be all “Hide yo quills, hide yo hedge, cuz they rapin everybody out here.” And he’d be all earthy and street smart and wear a little hedgehog do rag. 

It would be like a delightful CBS comedy. 

In conclusion, hedgehogs: fucking adorbs, cool as shit, wanted by Stefanie

Deuces

They take them in. They train them up. They make them fight. They turn them lose. Them lose their minds. They forget they exist.