Robotgirl Who Asks Her Close Friends If Its Okay For Her To Vent To Them Before Releasing A Giant Burst

robotgirl who asks her close friends if its okay for her to vent to them before releasing a giant burst of steam

More Posts from Mangomaestro and Others

mangomaestro

2 months ago

Some Originals Available On Online Store!

Some originals available on online store!

Store

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mangomaestro

1 month ago

maybe we’ll meet at a bar, he’ll drive a funky car– wrong. he’ll be driving a funky off road wheelchair.

(i’m calling them cabincore duo from now on)

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mangomaestro

2 months ago

Captain Nemo

I drew this piece in 2019, and although I can see lots of mistakes and imperfections, it's still one of my favourite artworks

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mangomaestro

2 months ago

you'll play your part

Bonus: Twilight's Window

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mangomaestro

2 months ago

several people have asked about this poem during my Ask Hours. It took me a while to hunt it down & even longer to decide to post it because it’s so old & I’m a little self conscious about it. Sorry about the screenshots, I don’t want to do all the formatting in-post, but I included alt-text! thanks for remembering my old poetry!

I don’t visit you in the cemetery.

Ten years ago I waited my turn—

To drop a handful of dirt on the box with you inside.

A week later, there was grass seed spread on the dirt-clump rectangle.

Two months later—
Grass—
but still no headstone.

I haven’t been back.

On Tuesday nights I sit in our booth at that bar on the corner.

It’s a Mexican place now, so I order fajitas instead of fries.

September at the county fair,
I stand an hour in line for our favorite ride,
and they strap in a stranger beside me.

Sometimes I order your favorite beer,

Sometimes I listen to your favorite bands,
and when I remember you talking, your voice is theirs.

I walk by the empty corner where our house used to be.

I sit on porches where you used to sit.

I pass the building where you used to work,

and I talk to the people who used to talk to you.

Everything about you is past tense,
and I drown in the presence of you.

Ten years,
and I don’t visit you in the cemetery.

Why should anyone?

Every person who ever lives
leaves behind 1,000 graves
in every place they ever were.

The rest of us spend our days—
watching where we walk.

Every step,
aimed to avoid them.

Open,
Invisible hungry pits.

But everywhere I go,
I see them.

Some days,
I fall in.

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mangomaestro

2 months ago

say you're fifteen and you see a swordsman dancing on a roof with a red ribbon, and you did not understand beauty until that moment. say you meet him near a waterfall and you spar together, half-friend, half-foe. entirely something else. you've wanted before, wanted to survive, to eat, to kill, to be stronger than anyone else. when you look at him, you want to win a different kind of war, one you have no experience in, one he has all he tools and medals for. you see him with different lovers hand in hand. you steal into his bedroom in the dark of the night. the two of you write a peace treaty together. during a storm he comes howling vengeance for a crime you did not commit, tears in his eyes. you kill each other.

say you never find him again. you find a man who wears his face, a man you think is him. he takes you home in red robes. you hold his hand while he wears silver and burgundy. the two of you drink together in a wedding chamber with a bright moon. you find a way to save him, you turn your back, and you never see him again. he does not show up to the memorial. the absence is the point and everything you love has slipped out of your hands before you knew it was gone. he won this type of war, you realise, standing there on that desolate beach, waiting for a ghost.

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mangomaestro

2 months ago

what I think will happen if I message my mutuals