love-m-liz

[love-m-liz]

“Intense love always leads to mourning.”

— Louise Glück (via quotemadness)

[love-m-liz]

The ceiling fan is gently swaying on the slight breeze coming in through the window. The air tickles my hair, relieving the back of my neck from the July night heat and the pressure of his gaze. He has not said a word since he slipped in, but his gaze stays locked on my figure, his eyes always returning to mine in between the brief strays across my body. He must’ve realized the anger simmering beneath my stiff posture, for his eyes finally leave my body and fall to the floor. The silence sits between us like smoke, leaving the air in between us heavy and hard to breathe in. I blush in spite of the cool air on my face, drawing his eyes back to me. Slowly, he swallows, his adam's apple bobbing, almost taunting me with its movement, and he speaks.

“Why are you up here? The party’s downstairs.” He skirts around the real elephant in the room, as usual. His body, still leaning gracefully against the door, tenses as I walk away from him to the balcony. I needed more air to cool the burning flame of disappointment, but I hear him follow. I place both of my hands on the cool stone of the ledge and look about the street. I hear him stop, and I turn to face him. Once again, his body is leaned up against one of the glass doors, effortlessly beautiful and dangerous, wrapped in his favorite plain white T, dark jeans, and leather jacket. His long lashes flutter darkly against the emerald hue of his eyes, hidden wings on a bird of prey.

“I couldn’t help getting away. Those people down there, although I love them, can become suffocating sometimes. I just needed a breath of fresh air. I could, however, ask you the same question. Especially since you’re in my room.” Even the dusk air seems to be pulling us together, tugging at our clothes, nudging me towards the warmth his body promises.

My words cause a surprised chuckle to escape from his lips, sending ripples of desire across my skin. His eyes twinkle with mischief, and he removes himself from his post, leisurely walking to where I stand on the wide stone balcony. He sets both balled fists on the ledge and looks out across the city while I lazily follow the familiar lines of the constellations in the sky with my eyes. I feel his gaze shift towards me, but I refuse to pay homage to anyone else bu the gods above. He always called me a priest’s wildest dream, but what do you expect? The daughter of a god to not believe in her own parents? Not likely.

I only shift my eyes when I can feel his breath against my ear, raising goosebumps on my tan skin. I turn and face him, looking up at him through my lashes, wishfully thinking I could read his mind for the thousandth time since I’ve met him. His eyes glitter darkly, so venomous he could be a love child of Medusa. It’s not that hard to believe by the way his stare stills me in place. My thoughts are interrupted by his hand, which slowly reaches up and grips my chin, soft but firm on the smooth skin of my jaw. He draws my face to his, stopping only inches away, an emotion flittering across his features, his skin trembling with an unknown force.

Finally, with a voice as sultry as fire-brand whiskey, he murmurs between with gritted teeth, as if internally-frustrated.

“I missed you, my dragon. I can’t lose you again.”

His brutal honesty, hanging in the air between us, is quickly swallowed as our lips meet. Electricity sparks under our skin, pulsing with the beat of his pulse and the wild flutter of wing beats between my ribs. His hands, which were gripping both sides of my face, now tangle themselves in my shirt as my arms entwine his neck and hair. His hands, now feverish with longing, reach for my thighs resting on the balcony and lifts me into the air. My surprise is barely registered before I wrap my legs around his waist, my tongue dancing with his. He is moving back into the apartment, trying to locate the majestic king bed in the dark. I laugh into his smile, and whisper into his ear the directions he seeks, gently grazing his ear with the sharp prick of my teeth. His lips lock with mine once more, as if he is a dying man and his only chance for survival is to kiss me and me only. He finally finds my lavish four-poster bed, gently laying me down on the silk sheets. All three of my thick burgundy curtains fall closed, and the silhouette of his muscled shoulders are the last thing I see before darkness infuses every pore in my body.

He keeps whispering I love you’s into my neck.

how my dragon of a heart was tamed within satin sheets and measured flames - misplaced tales of a lost goddess pt.3 // m.b. dragonheart

#spilled ink #love-m-liz #maya brandon #writing #poetry #love #passion #long-awaited #first love

[love-m-liz]

“A year has passed and you still think of her. But you no longer know if the “her” in your mind is the “her” in real life. Memories come in flashes. The way she laughed so hard one time, she fell off the bed. The time she cried at a Christmas advert on TV. You remember the first present she ever got you, a small music box from Venice. You remember her eyes wide, in anticipation, and then in relief: “I love it." You remember smoothing her wet hair from her face that time she came home in the rain; mascara smudged, running down both cheeks. You called her panda and she laughed. You remember her laugh. You remember the nervousness at meeting her family for the first time. Then, stepping into her childhood bedroom, and everything starting to make sense. You remember pointing to a box on top of her bookshelf. "What’s that?” you asked. “Memories,” she said. “It’s a box full of memories.” “Can I see?” you asked. “No,” she said, “they’re things from the past. And that’s where they belong.” Later, you realised that she meant they were memories of the people she had loved. She’d always amazed you with the way that she could so easily move on. “The past is the past,” she liked to say. Now, you are her past. And she is yours. The only difference is that you still think of her. And you cannot help but wonder if she ever thinks of you, or whether you are simply a part of the box at the top of her shelf.”

— Sue Zhao // Memory Box

[love-m-liz]

— oh darling, even rome fell // p.s.

insp

[love-m-liz]

The day you left, the oceans fell from the sky. It was if the heavens themselves couldn't bear the ache in my chest and wept when I couldn’t. That day, I heard angels strike the earth in the form of lightning and their fallen brethren down below roared, in fury at the sorrow reverberating through my bones, in the form of thunder. That day, I turned into a being of mass destruction.

misplaced tales of a lost goddess pt.2 // m.b. dragonheart

#spilled ink #love-m-liz #maya brandon #writing #poetry #loss #heartbreak #gods and monsters #pain #fury #misplaced love #betrayal

[love-m-liz]

I may not be perfect. I may have short-circuits within my heart and power outages in my head. I may take more pain meds than necessary and not eat enough. I may not always do what God wants me to do and I raise hell more often than I should,” her breathing hitches, her throat becoming clogged with unwanted emotion. “…But I do love you. I love you with every molecule in my body. I love you more than all the water droplets in the sea and every asteroid in space. I have been in love with you ever since I met you. I have loved you and lost you and loved you again all the same. It has never faltered, even when you made me hate you.” She darts her eyes to the ground, her shoulders straining to hold in the shivers that want to be released, the sobs trying to pour out of her body. She snaps down the urges as tears begin to escape her downward eyelids. Her fire within rises, scolding her to be strong, to pierce him with the sorrow in her eyes and the ice in her stare. Her head lifts, and fury simmers across her skin. Her throat needs to be cleared again or else it’ll crack and break, but she doesn’t care anymore. Her anger consumes her. “And you know what the worst part is? You can’t even say anything back. You sit there in silence as I confess my undying love for you. I know you loved me once, but why can’t you love me now?” Her voice rose as she spoke, sparks beginning to ignite along her tear streaks and her soul flamed with the desire for retribution, for closure, for something. But he was just as silent as she assumed he would be, so she cooled her flames and snapped them away powerfully, hiding them within the creases of her shoulder blades. They folded into the undersides of her wings as they rose along her back and flexed upwards, majestically flickering the blue of pure flame, eager for flight. There was nothing more to discuss. She had bared her heart open and naked to him, waiting for words that never left their hiding place on his tongue, and she needed to leave before her claws resurfaced and she took revenge on this poor excuse of her former lover. As she turned and prepared herself to return to the sky, she heard the nervous rustle of clothing and his feet crunch on the gravel. She halted and spun towards him lazily, the membranes of her wings buffering against the slight breeze, and sighed loudly, expecting him to remain mute. She was startled by the hazy madness within his eyes. “You can say your love for me is pure all you want and that I am the cold one but you’re the one leaving. I know I don’t say much and when I do it’s not at the right time, but that doesn’t mean I gave up on us. I never stopped loving you and I will continue to love you even if you leave. Nothing, not even God himself, could change my mind. Because if loving a fallen angel like you was a sin, I would find paradise down under.

misplaced tales of a lost goddess pt.1 // m.b. dragonheart 

#spilled ink #love-m-liz #maya brandon #writing #poetry #heartbreak #myths and legends #love #fallen angel #how it should've happened

[love-m-liz]

7, 9, 13, 22, 23, 25, 27, 35, 38, 39

50 Quotes About Kissing

1.

Kiss me and you will see how important I am.

—Sylvia Plath

2.

Kiss me until I forget how terrified I am of everything wrong with my life.

—Beau Taplin

3.

How she felt when he kissed her—like a tub of roses swimming in honey, cologne, nutmeg and blackberries.

—Samuel Sullivan Cox

4.

He took her into his arms again, using all his strength to be gentle, and let his lips touch hers so lightly he could hardly feel it.

—Morgan Llywelyn

5.

His kisses tapped into deep mines of memory, and the years that had separated us fell away as if they were nothing.

—Lisa Kleypas

6.

A kiss is a secret told to the mouth instead of the ear; kisses are the messengers of love and tenderness.

—Ingrid Bergman

7.

And we were kissing like drowning people breathe—like suddenly we’d discovered something that has never been so sweet before that moment.

—Morgan Matson

8.

The kiss itself is immortal. It travels from lip to lip, century to century, from age to age. Men and women garner these kisses, offer them to others and then die in turn.

—Guy de Maupassant

9.

I kiss her. I kiss her and kiss her. I try not to bite her lip. She tastes like vodka honey.

—Lidia Yuknavitch

10.

We are all mortal until the first kiss and the second glass of wine.

—Eduardo Galeano

11.

It was the kiss of a man who had waited years for the moment, and feared that it would never come again.

—Jana Oliver

12.

The first kiss can be as terrifying as the last.

—Daina Chaviano

13.

It was a kiss to level mountains and shake stars from the sky. It was a kiss to make angels faint and demons weep…a passionate, demanding, soul-searing kiss that nearly knocked the earth off its axis.

—Lisa Kleypas

14.

You should be kissed and by someone who knows how.

—Margaret Mitchell

15.

If you kiss on the first date and it’s not right, then there will be no second date. Sometimes it’s better to hold out and not kiss for a long time. I am a strong believer in kissing being very intimate, and the minute you kiss, the floodgates open for everything else.

—Jennifer Lopez

16.

My first kiss. A new kind of kiss, like the new kind of music still playing, softly, in the distance—wild and arrhythmic, desperate. Passionate.

—Lauren Oliver

17.

Now a soft kiss—aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.

—John Keats

18.

Hollywood is a place where they’ll pay you a thousand dollars for a kiss and fifty cents for your soul.

—Marilyn Monroe

19.

It was the best first kiss in the history of first kisses. It was as sweet as sugar. And it was warm, as warm as pie. The whole world opened up and I fell inside. I don’t know where I was, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care because the only person who mattered was there with me.

—Sarah Addison Allen

20.

How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss and all was said.

—Victor Hugo

21.

A first kiss is the demarcation line: the same information that a moment ago felt private, all of a sudden seems unfair to withhold. And with that exchange came more.

—Francesca Marciano

22.

Then she was kissing him as she had never kissed him before…and it was blissful oblivion, better than firewhisky; she was the only real thing in the world.

—J. K. Rowling

23.

I’m going to kiss you now, and I don’t know if I’ll ever stop.

—Jamie McGuire

24.

A kiss that is never tasted, is forever and ever wasted.

—Billie Holiday

25.

He kisses like he’s dying of thirst, and I’m water.

—Jennifer L. Armentrout

26.

A kiss is a rosy dot over the ‘i’ of loving.

—Cyrano de Bergerac

27.

Well, it’s either kiss me or kill me, that’s how I see it.

—Tom Waits

28.

The kiss is neither returned nor exchanged, because it’s free.

—Charles de Leusse

29.

The sunlight claps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me?

—Percy Bysshe Shelley

30.

My nose itched, and I knew I should drink wine or kiss a fool.

—Jonathan Swift

31.

Kissing you is terrifying, breathing your same air makes my knees weak, when I’m around you it’s a tie between wanting to chase you down—or just kiss you until you can’t breathe.

—Rachel Van Dyken

32.

Our only kiss was like an accident—a beautiful gasoline rainbow.

—Alice Sebold

33.

He tangles his hand in my hair, and the other cups my jaw. Although I have this all planned, his lips feel shockingly sweet, swollen and soft, and more like home every time.

—Alex Rosa

34.

A kiss on the beach when there is a full moon is the closest thing to heaven.

—H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

35.

I didn’t want to kiss you goodbye—that was the trouble—I wanted to kiss you good night—and there’s a lot of difference.

—Ernest Hemingway

36.

His mouth seizes mine. Consuming me. Devouring me. My body moves against his. Harder. Faster. Take me. Take all of me…

—Alexia Russell

37.

I prefer a kiss that is so much more than just a tongue in your mouth.

—Katherine Heigl

38.

The truth is, I always want to kiss you.

—Alex Rosa

39.

I was going to kiss him, and I was going to regret it. But at that moment, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

—Michelle Hodkin

40.

Your love is not really love until you waste it, a kiss is never a kiss until you taste it…

—Munia Khan

41.

The lover steals a kiss. He incurs life imprisonment.

—Charles de Leusse

42.

Kiss me out of desire, but not consolation.

—Jeff Buckley

43.

It’s the kind of kiss that inspires stars to climb into the sky and light up the world.

—Tahereh Mafi

44.

Kissing—and I mean like, yummy, smacking kissing – is the most delicious, most beautiful and passionate thing that two people can do, bar none. Better than sex, hands down.

—Drew Barrymore

45.

Her lips touched his brain as they touched his lips, as though they were a vehicle of some vague speech and between them he felt an unknown and timid pressure, darker than the swoon of sin, softer than sound or odor.

—James Joyce

46.

And somehow, against all reason, we were kissing. I closed my eyes, and the world around me faded.

—Richelle Mead

47.

Boys always like to see girls kiss. I don’t get it; girls don’t want to see boys kiss.

—Dominique Swain

48.

Make me immortal with a kiss.

—Christopher Marlowe

49.

Unfortunately, I like to feel a little stubble when I kiss. Women are too soft.

—Malin Akerman

50.

One day you will kiss a man you can’t breathe without, and find that breath is of little consequence.

—Karen Marie Moning

[love-m-liz]

an incomplete list of unsettling short stories I read in textbooks

the scarlet ibis

marigolds

the diamond necklace

the monkey’s paw

the open boat

the lady and the tiger

the minister’s black veil

an occurrence at owl creek bridge

a rose for emily

(I found that one by googling “short story corpse in the house,” first result)

the cask of amontillado

the yellow wallpaper

the most dangerous game

a good man is hard to find

some are well-known, some obscure, some I enjoy as an adult, all made me uncomfortable between the ages of 11-15

add your own weird shit, I wanna be literary and disturbed

[love-m-liz]

Write 3-10 Pieces Of Advice You’d Give Yourself 1. Love yourself even more this year. Pamper yourself. Buy that sexy tight dress you wanted. Take pictures of yourself when you’re feeling so hot in that new outfit you bought. Do your makeup and look like the queen that slays everything. Since you are that queen. 2. Learn to be content with being alone. You don’t need a relationship in order to feel complete. Be alone with yourself. Go on dates with yourself. Take a walk outside by yourself. Just be content with being by yourself and in your own solitude. 3. Find what you love to do and do it with passion. Wether it be writing poetry, drawing, working out, making videos, cooking, helping someone in need. Do it and be passionate about it. 4. Be happy and remind yourself about the positive affirmations that you are. For a better life and mindset you need to rewire your brain into thinking happy positive thoughts. 5. Always be kind to people. Go out and complement someone. It can be about anything wether it’s someone’s makeup or outfit or even their hair. Make someone’s day by complementing them because you don’t know what people go through behind closed doors. It could be the one things that makes their entire day that day. 6. Remember that you can’t always be happy or a perfect person. Don’t beat yourself up over whatever it is that’s eating you up alive on the inside. Remember that you are human and your feelings are valid but don’t let them consume you forever. 7. Go out more. Stop letting your anxiety keep you away from this big world we live in. There is so much out there and so much to see. Go out and do something productive. 8. Forgive those who have wronged you. Forgive them even if they don’t deserve it. Holding onto whatever they did to hurt you will only hurt you even more in the end. Forgive but never forget. 9. Let go of things you can’t control. Sometimes in life we go through things that we have no control over wether it be a bad breakup, losing a job, losing a friend. Everything is temporary. Nothing in this world is permanent to us so just let go and live your life. Be the best version of yourself that you can be. 10. Spread love like you’ve never loved before in your entire life. Love is the closest thing we have to magic and in today’s world we need a lot more love with all the hate in the world their is today. Love will set your soul free. Love makes the world go round as cliche as that sounds.

everyrosehasitsthornes (via wnq-writers)

[love-m-liz]

depression tips™

shower. not a bath, a shower. use water as hot or cold as u like. u dont even need to wash. just get in under the water and let it run over you for a while. sit on the floor if you gotta.

moisturize everything. use whatever lotion u like. unscented? dollar store lotion? fancy ass 48 hour lotion that makes u smell like a field of wildflowers? use whatever you want, and use it all over. 

put on clean, comfortable clothes. 

put on ur favorite underwear. cute black lacy panties? those ridiculous boxers u bought last christmas with candy cane hearts on the butt? put em on.

drink cold water. use ice. if u want, add some mint or lemon for an extra boost.

clean something. doesn’t have to be anything big. organize one drawer of ur desk. wash five dirty dishes. do a load of laundry. scrub the bathroom sink. 

blast music. listen to something upbeat and dancey and loud, something that’s got lots of energy. sing to it, dance to it, even if you suck at both.

make food. don’t just grab a granola bar to munch. take the time and make food. even if it’s ramen. add something special to it, like a hard boiled egg or some veggies. prepare food, it tastes way better, and you’ll feel like you accomplished something. 

make something. write a short story or a poem, draw a picture, color a picture, fold origami, crochet or knit, sculpt something out of clay, anything artistic. even if you don’t think you’re good at it.

go outside. take a walk. sit in the grass. look at the clouds. smell flowers. put your hands in the dirt and feel the soil against your skin.

call someone. call a loved one, a friend, a family member, call a chat service if you have no one else to call. talk to a stranger on the street. have a conversation and listen to someone’s voice. if you can’t, text or email or whatever, just have some social interaction with another person. even if you don’t say much, listen to them.

cuddle your pets if you have them/can cuddle them. take pictures of them. talk to them. tell them how u feel, about your favorite movie, a new game coming out.

[love-m-liz]

do you think he misses me like i miss him sometimes?

I don’t know sweetheart. Maybe he does. Maybe some nights he misses you so much he can’t sleep. Maybe he tosses and he turns and he picks up his phone and thinks about dialling your number. Maybe when he gets drunk on the weekends he calls his new girlfriend by your name. 

Maybe he still thinks about you every day. Or, every other day. Maybe he regrets ending it. Or he wishes he hadn’t let you go so easily. Maybe he still has your t-shirt. Your scarf. Something else you left behind. It doesn’t smell like you anymore, but he thinks it does. 

Maybe he still talks to his friends about you. Dreams about you. Wishes you would get in touch. Maybe he wonders how you are, whether you’ve found love. Maybe he hopes that you haven’t. 

So yes, maybe he does miss you. Maybe he misses you with every fibre of his being. 

But maybe he doesn’t. 

And probably, he doesn’t. 

In any case, you owe it to yourself to stop living in a world of maybe’s. You deserve so much more. 

Sweetheart, stop chasing a ghost. You deserve so much more. 

[love-m-liz]

But sometimes, when you love someone, you stop noticing the way that they hurt you. You stop noticing the red flags. Or you ignore them. Whichever one works at the time.  You tell yourself that it doesn’t matter. You make excuses for their behaviour. All in the name of love, you tell your mother. “He loves me, he loves me, he loves me”.  Last Friday night, he took your heart and threw it onto the motorway. The next morning, he told you he’d rip out his own to replace it. Then he kissed your neck and you were whole again. For the moment, for the moment, it was love.  So you forget about the bruises and tell him that you forgive him. Cover them up with sleeves and paint. What about the psychological bruises? You don’t notice them until it’s too late. Until one day, he’s gone and you’re in love again. And the new guy asks why you flinch at his silence. And you tell him that quietness has always meant anger and conflict.  And you’ll realise that he might be gone but his bruises linger on.

Sue Zhao // Bruises  (via blossomfully)

[love-m-liz]

“Describe numbness,” he says. He sits opposite me with his legs crossed. His broad hands enclose mine. “Well it’s like standing on the edge of a cliff and not feeling afraid,” I tell him. I can’t stand the look he’s giving me so I divert my eyes. “It’s like knowing you should feel something but not being able to.”

Sue Zhao (via blossomfully)

[love-m-liz]

#poetry (at New York, New York)

[love-m-liz]

This is too perfect

So, I met a boy. I met a boy when he asked to borrow my lighter even though he had one, anyway.

I met a boy with irises akin to liquid gold and honey; Who doesn’t think his eyes are pretty but I can’t think of anything more spectacular.

I met a boy who let me borrow his T-shirt; Who says he trusts me. I met a boy who bought me five dollar wine; Who called me strong.

I met a boy with thick, dark hair; A burning gaze, soft skin. Strong, capable arms; Captivating presence.

I met a boy. I met a boy. Shit. This is bad.

[love-m-liz]

He was standing in front of her, arms crossed and jaw clenched tight. “What do you want?” His voice was dull, expressionless. She took a sip of her coffee and glanced up at him, stalling. The hot liquid seared her throat but she didn’t seem to care. All she could notice was the way he kept his eyes on hers and how they expressed what his tone didn’t. He often forgot that his eyes spoke what it was he wanted to hide. “I want you to want me,“ she said cautiously. His eyes changed from a murky blue to a stormy grey. “You have no idea how much I do.”

n.g. // excerpt from a book i’ll never write #14 (via coffeeandpoetrydarling)

[love-m-liz]

Perhaps one day I’ll have a daughter who’ll come up to me with a smile so wide it must hurt and eyes that sparkle and I’ll sigh inaudibly because I’ll know that there is a boy and she just lost her heart to him. She will ask me the question, “How can I tell if he likes me?” and I’ll think of your hazel eyes and slowly begin to say,“Whatever you do, don’t trust charming sweetheart. If he whispers sweet lines in your ears with out a single stutter, it’s not romantic; it’s rehearsed. How many girls must he have said that to? What you can always count on is awkwardness. It’s all about the subtle glances and small smiles. It’s both of your hearts racing because of accidental knee brushes and shaky breaths after staring at each other for a little to long. It’s the timid hello’s and reddening cheeks; love is raw in its most honest form, darling, and that should never change.”

n.g. // excerpt from a book i’ll never write #13 (via coffeeandpoetrydarling)