maggie von sacher

i still believe love is real i just don’t fuck with it anymore

living off of rice and cigarettes
a baby could never

i will not go gently into pride month
nothing
will be happenstance this june

Trees under thunder clouds this afternoon

Storm rolling in

art expedites healing… is pure and like a second skin to those who have given up on love

*takes drag of cigarette goldenly*

i want a cigarette and a glass of wine i can see my face in

i will never kiss you harder than when you tell me i’m smart

i should tone clarify
all my tweets with /dramatic

i miss the 2016 era of identity politics where everyone is needlessly deferent towards each other and no one gets anything done except for complain

i tell my cat she loves to talk but hates to listen

affirmation today, i am the kind of girl
who has a boyfriend

every time i eat i feel guilty i think they call that an eating dystopia

there is no end to telling me what i want

please i need a cigarette

thinking about how i was so desperate to be loved by my ex that i clung to utterly dead gestures, and how i will never do that shit again

i’m like if strawberry peach la croix was literary and boring

i wish nicotine didn’t

make me feel like my
head is full of the sweetest air

smelling my cat’s breath

the punchline of my life is my parents have softened so much with age, and so i am forced to forgive them

sometimes i’m
like my internet presence is the exact presence of a girl who is going to get murdered

the spirit must learn to improvise when the flesh is this corrupt

no bra
all rage

i am actually really into fuckboy culture

i think i am confused about what love is

everyday there is no quieting my dreams of food… falafel gyros… ham&cheese croissants… fish tacos…hush puppies

New feral dove book this Spring from @chris88.bsky.social

it is so wrong that we treat women’s bodies discursively

bright eyes lyrics to open my heart, nicotine to open my third eye

crawdad standing on a wet pavement with a news microphone being held to it

gm