my childhood dream i had not realized that growing fruit was a possibility until i laid eyes on a potted orange tree in my parent’s friend’s house i didn’t know growing plants indoors was possible either i was fascinated that trees could come in my size and a tree my size could already be producing fruit whenever i was dragged to another one of my parent’s friend’s houses i would always look around to see if they also had an orange tree or if the first tree i ever saw was just a dream - Sappy
*Content warning: Vulgar language*
Dick around in shades of blue
Blue jeans trimmed at the ankles
Blueberries buoyed in jam
Oceans I’ve never seen
Lakes like paintings
Searching for Moby Dick
Crayons in cornflower and indigo
Blue raspberry Slurpee for two
My brother’s favorite orchids
Blue bunnies on plush pastures
Late night bubble blowing
Songs with somber melodies
Twitter when it was ours
Blue jays in the park
Beneath a soft sky
The color of her eyes
I tended to pastures
Jammed ankles that sang
Like indigo weather
With melodies like paintings
I’ve seen before
Orchids were her eyes
Two parked beneath the sky
Blowing wind
I love your shades
Of blue
Text: “Some might even call me a reverse necromancer!”
Thought bubble: “…A murderer?”
Apologies for the lack of content recently, exams are killing me right now and im just facing artblock in general. But we’re back with skippy and mur and their regularly schedules shenanigans!
Stand Each step that weighs down a soul should be weighed down with happiness and each fall filled with tears of laughter. Get up. Use the 13 muscles of a smile instead of the 47 of a frown. - Sappy
Speech from head to toe / The details entice the eyes / Show what’s within you
Alternative Transportation
As a child
colors dissolved
and speckles of magic
emerged
I waited for something
to take me away from here
But nothing did
so I held up a mirror
and imagined I’d fallen in
to a world opposite this one
grass grew from the sky
clouds like slippers
teary eyed turned upside
anger was to satisfy
a vendetta paid in full
My friend gifted me a book
empty pages and a burn building
in a chest beating
for a richer life
where pain isn’t pleasure
where people mean what they mean
where I’m far away
but home
yes, home
