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I am your prologue to paranoia.
To be in love is beautiful, yet it can be cruel; to be loved is ordinary, yet always feels new.
To exist is to write for those who are lovesick like me. It may seem strange to hear “I love you” from a stranger, but I assure you that I mean it.
Even if you don’t love me, I will still demonstrate my affection towards you.
And I will do it here. I hope that's okay.
Wiki Entries (1)
Posts (330) Wall (276)

Dashy Kun
19 days ago
an arsonist’s empathy is often displayed as hideous, i’d know
“Cause the devil I know Is the devil I want.” - Ethel Cain — Thought I might’ve tricked myself into dying by now, but all I’ve done is become a better liar. I paved myself in a glossary, full of sticky definitions seductive, like chewing gum laced with arsenic on the t...



Dashy Kun
May 02
untitled semaphore
— There’s a time stamp lodged in the back of my throat I tried to speak, but the words curdled on the way out. In your voice, my repetitions sounds like bad milk. The same lines that used to send you over three or five octaves before. Now it’s like being considerate with dead me...



Dashy Kun
April 23
here is someone
— At four you’ll sip your black tea either with Splenda or not depending on who you think you are today. Sit by the window, picturing a family in the backyard— he’s running barefoot in the grass again, and the young is shouting something about wearing white. you count his st...



Dashy Kun
April 21
it's taylor mountain all over again.
— I didn’t mean to go up there, not on that day, not with that weather. Taylor Mountain’s always there, casually looming like the kind of man who says he loves you with his eyes on the way you flinch when he says forever. We used to kiss beneath those trees. Not in a senti...



Dashy Kun
April 18
leave the persimmon seeds uneaten
The cold air is used for manipulation it’s almost charming how you pretend it’s not. and I crave your warmth-specifically under your shoulder blades, which is oddly the most vulnerable place on a person next to their laughter. Time slows down under your command. Your hands do this moonl...


Dashy Kun
March 22
Leda & I
- America flag printed on his torso, as if he came back a coward, not a man, a trembling flag, frayed and torn from the weight of it all- I dream of the bombshell you’d drop. Chew through scraps less than what’s left of your pride, I feel the violence and the silence lick ...



Dashy Kun
March 21
honeymind
— tw: mentions of vulgarity I watch you breathe like I’m learning how to lie. Your tongue moves, and I hear names you don’t say. I get quiet. I watch your mouth move. I imagine it saying please— but not to me. You told me once you don’t like being touched by anybody. So w...


Dashy Kun
March 18
moon pomade
- Softly spoken in open waters, a lonesome songbird through tunnel vision — fixated, gentle, trying not to disturb. Hints of shine in moments of doubt, a polished surface over unraveling. Serenaded out of body, mind, and fury, tamed into something pleasing. Icy enough to hol...



Dashy Kun
February 25
little marks (for a short one.)
— tw: mentions of vulgarity - All skin and tension, a flicker of something dangerous beneath the surface. This isn’t for you— but it is for you to know. Wouldn’t know how to react to a man who touches me without hesitation. I’d bury these bones just to prove I could liv...



Dashy Kun
February 25
the greatest day of a vacillator
- So they say it’s true— I’ve got my name stitched on the back of a tag that reads lost boy, and I wear it like a second skin, cheek bruised and red. The world spins like an old vinyl, and I wonder if Heaven is the track I keep skipping. I guess I slept through fifteen years, ...



Dashy Kun
February 13
it feels nice…
— tw: mentions of vulgarity PART ONE - wanderlust Pressure. I feel it. But I decide— his hair is my throne. ion. It hums at the dead of night, even though I never reach it Childlike. I imagine once in a blue moon, I will be needed. Wouldn’t it be nice to know I will. Si...




Dashy Kun
February 12
the dullhan’s boots are my father's
- He wore those boots like a sentence in gravel, thick-soled, caked in mud, black as sin. Each ragged step through halls that swallowed his words before they reached me- yet I felt them, in the emptiness a man feels when he has no deception to keep silence at bay, like Christ...



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Darn that green title! I wanted to pinch you!
Happy St patricks day anyway
hahaha happy st patties to you too! :green_heart: :four_leaf_clover: ☘
Sometimes I feel the night sky as if it were its own skin
It’s as if I was born again but the same
What a weird thing to say haha
HERE’S A RIDDLE:
The more you take, the more of me there are.
What am I?
It’s either money or footsteps :3
Reply to: Dashy Kun
Footsteps x3
Damn you. I just saw this haha
I hope you know that you're currently one of my favourite poets in the world, I request that you never stop writing, it is a gift to this world :sparkles:
I- don’t know what to say but sorry for not seeing this soon haha sorry been in recovery but thank you so much Deb that means a lot got me a little teary eyed after a long day. You as well surprise me in every post never forget that ^ :blue_heart: :blue_heart: :snowflake:
Reply to: Dashy Kun
🫂🫂🫂