A Beacon of Bright Stars
I want to say a thousand things
with a gesture,
a small offering
of affection, a beacon
of bright stars—
what if we make new constellations?
Arrange spaces for each other,
slowly, with the unhurried
curiosity of recognition, like calling to like,
holy in the only way
that matters.
What if there is magick
to be found here,
between us? Hearts heavy
with the past still sing,
still dance, still
know how to revel
in wonder, a frisson
of want
stark as a bright moon,
new as each day—
this is a bargain before you,
not a crossroads
but a gift, a reminder that yes
can be an adventure,
that mouths are meant
for meeting,
that hands are meant
for holding,
that layer by layer
let this distance
come apart—
I am here, a wild thing,
looking for a reason.
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Body horror
I am a cyborg because I’m disabled; metal and gears keep me up and moving
I am a vampire because I’m chronically ill; hungry for the life force coursing through people
I am a mummy because I’m disabled; all bandages holding together a failing body
I am a zombie because I’m disabled; all crawling dragging movements
I am disabled because I’m a human. I am a human because I’m disabled
my body is not horrifying so I am not body horror
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"why is it called 'tortured poets department' if taylor is neither a poet nor was she tortured.
this is actually a frequent misconception. you see, her large house has an even larger basement. it is in fact so large, that she divides it in departements. the album title refers to where she keeps her kidnapped poets to torture and abuse them. hope this helps!
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Verena Stefan (deceased)
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Lesbian
DOB: 3 October 1947
RIP: 29 November 2017
Ethnicity: White - Swiss
Occupation: Writer, poet, feminist
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I am ravenous for the taste of your skin against mine. For your hands in my hair and mine on your waist. I long to drown in the sea of your love, to be filled with the warmth of your touch ... I am so deprived of contact from another that at every waking second, all I can think about is you.
[Kas]
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WHY DO I?
On the outside I look fine
My toxins reside within
I can't let people see it because I have this need to be perceived as someone who always wins
Shaming myself daily for thing's out of my control
Why do I hate on myself so much?
Why can't I forgive my own soul? ~BX
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L.A, not quite the city that never sleeps
Not quite the city that wakes, but the city that dreams, for sure
If by dreams you mean in nightmares
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