Beanpole ★★★★

and you spit the blood back, spit the blood back
baby, i'm amazed that you're alright

love is a many-pronged, devastating thing. it's domination and craving and bent shoulder blades. it's two women worn down to their cores, wanting and wanting and wanting as the snow falls, their colours bleeding into one another – red for life and green for life.

it's consuming and so is revenge, because once you get your hands on it you don't know how to stop, spinning and spinning into a spiral of rageful emptiness.

we're both very sick, our muscles all worn down
it's as if we are one hundred — no, i won't still be around
because i've fallen, yes i've fallen right into the love i found
long before i reach one hundred
i'll have fallen to the ground

('chelsea', phoebe bridgers)