maveth
LightNews LightNews
banner
mavveth.bsky.social
maveth
@mavveth.bsky.social
50 followers 140 following 680 posts
31 | they/he/she/it | writer & meatsack
https://linktr.ee/mavveth
Posts Replies Media Videos
mavveth.bsky.social
my heart, restored — a poem
December 31, 2025 at 2:49 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
hi! so when i was thirteen, i rewrote the black parade by my chemical romance into a book! and got it to them! they wrote me two letters and dedicated two songs to me as well as naming me their # 1 fan! i reuploaded the story to drive for your reading pleasure! drive.google.com/file/d/1er02...
August 27, 2025 at 10:37 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
he unzipped his hoodie during dinner last night and this was underneath. yes, he made the shirt lmao
a t-shirt saying “yes! i’m a spoiled boyfriend but not yours i am the property of a freaking awesome non-binary partner they’re a little bit crazy sometimes and have a serious dislike for stupid people flirt with me the beast within them will awaken and no one will ever find your body yes i made this shirt”
April 17, 2025 at 3:05 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
without downloading any new pictures, explain yourself
a person in a rubber pinhead mask taking a fat rip from a bong.
March 18, 2025 at 4:13 AM
mavveth.bsky.social
a #poem about a show at tv eye
// a poem about a show at tv eye ; maveth technicolor dreams cascading down on light particles that make visions swim like fishes in the hudson river, bodies watching and moving and writhing in excelsis, ecstasy, and your hand slips down to my back pocket and the world is reflected in your eyes as you kiss me; the music is alive and inside of you, your touch like lava becoming glass: molten and existing beyond time.
March 11, 2025 at 3:57 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
ee i’m glad!! :D it was partially inspired by this image!
a piece of carved stone. it’s a hand with an angel resting in the palm.
February 15, 2025 at 1:46 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
angels sleep here, a #poem.

(i'm feeling rather inspired this morning!)
// angels sleep here ; maveth god rests in the palms of my hands, sitting in fleshy wrinkles, the meat of a grasping touch—i hope it lingers like the scratch of my fingernails along the catches of the tree rings that dna spirals through. if i kiss the soft caress of memory, will i remain there forever?
February 15, 2025 at 1:25 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
last call, a #poem inspired by a friend.
// last call ; maveth two-thirty calls and i’m dragging my mouth through the tavern trying to grasp a modicum of normalcy at the bottom of a bottle and i— i can hardly force myself to move, to lift the anchors on my feet, metal scraping earth and water, displacing the very molecules that comprise everything and everything and there’s a ghost of a touch on my hand: appears and disappears in a flash, barely there and yet lingering. ( two-thirty calls and the lights flood the bar, and i blink away the phosphenes, fireworks imprinted on the skin of my eyelids. the abyss sinks into me; i’m falling. )
February 15, 2025 at 1:00 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
like you don’t understand—
a white, bald afab person with tattoos and glasses and facial piercings. they’re wearing whiteout contacts. it’s a mirror selfie.
February 11, 2025 at 9:54 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
posting this again for @prettypinkpansy.bsky.social:
February 11, 2025 at 9:38 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
stitches, a #poem for loki.
// stitches ; maveth the scent of chlorine on the air like flames singe flesh, flaying it from bones that do not so much grasp for purchase amongst sinew but allow it to slip away, salmon-flopping back into dark waters made of ash, oceans spreading outward, fingers splayed, searching for something that has never retained shape for long. chaos lingers as sweat dries, as tears fall and hopes die and when the birds sing outside, they’re just lying about the things they feel on the inside.
February 10, 2025 at 3:06 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
i’m like really cute
bald, bespectacled afab white person with many piercings and accessories on
February 7, 2025 at 12:35 AM
mavveth.bsky.social
unkillable, a #poem.
// unkillable ; maveth at a bar in pompton lakes, new jersey, a girl with a line tattooed below her right eye slips on a bracelet i give her— u n k i l l a b l e— my hands closing over hers in the haze of drunken camaraderie, where the sweat on our drinks pools cold in slippery palms, and she is reaching to her keys and placing a ribbon pendant in the center of a freezing palm, and it says, “i only cried a little,” and like a promise, it swings from my own keys, and like a promise, we find respite in a dark corner of the sports bar, and there’ll be a fight between two meatheads in about fifteen minutes, but for a moment, the art of our tattoos and the solace of understanding makes us unkillable.
February 4, 2025 at 5:57 AM
mavveth.bsky.social
spiritual sickness, a #poem.
// spiritual sickness ; maveth in the cold eves of morning, awaken, cold: sweat pools in the curves of my bed frame, in the folds of the clothing strewn about the room in haphazard fashions— i do not wake with lust and-or love, but with the acrid taste of bittersweetness like dark chocolate on your throat, and i am biting and biting and biting down to tear it o u t, asunder, where life exists not out of obligation but out of gratitude.
January 31, 2025 at 8:16 AM
mavveth.bsky.social
this is me irl
a vampire doll with a pale white face with a widow's peak, a red bowtie and cape, and a black body. he has two black eyes made of beads, little pink blush marks, and a fanged smile.
January 24, 2025 at 2:08 AM
mavveth.bsky.social
t break, a #poem
// t break ; maveth huffing fumes from an empty cartridge, choking on the remnants of vapor in the chamber where ghosts may swirl and tap against the glass, the ceramic, wires criss-crossing patterns like the implication of touching, of skin pressed to skin to skin to skin—i am barely fabricated in this universal story we all tell, hardly a memory to instill in the wrinkles of your palm. empty pockets like promises made to oneself: i’ll try again tomorrow.
January 21, 2025 at 3:09 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
i started dating in my twenties, a #poem.
// i started dating in my twenties ; maveth i don’t have any exes, just stories— gory details saved for the pages of a diary, things like how my stomach turned to knots at the sight of morning glory, and maybe i’m the problem, maybe it’s all me, but a “fuck you” would be better than the bitter silence of tragedy.
January 14, 2025 at 9:46 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
a #poem about asthma
// a poem about asthma ; maveth alive: the act of breathing, repeating, mindless like the worms that wriggle beneath the earth, within the ground, propelled by the intrinsic need to eat, to fuck, to sleep. repeat. my lungs squeeze out oxygen, eighty percent capacity; once, long ago, i heard the wind in my ribs. the grip of death is not made of ice, but of steam in hot showers; i’m sitting, gasping, on the floor. smoke once filled me, a suicide pact made at eighteen, addicted not to the nicotine but to being at the precipice of a great cliff-face; i do not remember when it changed. steroids. alive. a gulp of air like water suffocating flames that lick the belly of a writhing insect. i am unseen, unfeeling, but alive. a puff of breath. alive.
January 9, 2025 at 9:23 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
of broken wings, a #poem.
// of broken wings ; maveth tell me the story of how i once knew that it was you in my dreams and no one else, of how i pieced together puzzles that had been fragmented with bone, with shards of broken hearts shattered on the rocky shore. i will jump from the cliffside, flying for but a moment, but the wings will melt as they always do when confidence foregoes sense. and the gods will not catch me. (i do not need them to.) flying, after all, is like falling: just look up.
January 7, 2025 at 12:47 AM
mavveth.bsky.social
PAX IS USING HER TREE ALERT ALERT
a large siamese mixed cat named pax, who is white with gray and brown spots, is curled up in a white fluffy cat tree.
January 5, 2025 at 6:24 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
golden light, a #poem. written while sick as an offering to apollo.
// golden light golden light spreading through the evening, clinging like mist to the surface of the earth, healing forcing skin to stitch closed— pain is needed to recover. in the pit of my guts, i feel you; i close my eyes and i smell the perfume of vanilla incense like a blanket to hold me, swaddled as a babe might be. golden light spreading through the evening, clinging like mist to the surface of the earth.
December 27, 2024 at 5:56 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
it’s the boy!!
a gengar pokemon card outlined in rainbow. it is an alternate art card of the pokemon hiding in an alleyway from a patrolling cop. it’s laughing.
December 11, 2024 at 10:23 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
maveth. they/he/she/it. an eldritch meatsack masquerading as a queer writer of horror and poetry.
a collage with a messed up smiley face in the middle. it has a lot of teeth and realistic eyes. it's surrounded by pictures of teeth and dentures and gums.
December 4, 2024 at 9:02 AM
mavveth.bsky.social
i saw amigo the devil last night.
amigo the devil, aka danny kiranos, a greek-spanish man holding a banjo is singing into a microphone. he wears a hawai’ian shirt and his arms are covered in tattoos. he has long curly hair and a thick beard.
November 12, 2024 at 5:34 PM
mavveth.bsky.social
#nanowrimo is... going.
MOT / MOONCHILDREN / 1 of 5 CHAPTER 1 The forest hummed with life. The cry of cicadas and the whining of mosquitoes, the screams of foxes and the roar of bears, sung a cacophony of noises that all filtered through like the moonlight through the leaves at the very tips of the surrounding trees. The darkness was deep, all-encompassing, pinpricks of visibility scattered about as stars, scars upon the visage, casting shadows that spoke of more terrifying things than the hungry beasts or the lost souls that traversed through the Forest of Oisín. It threatened to swallow all that bathed in its blackness whole. And yet, they ran.
November 2, 2024 at 7:53 PM