originalferal - Tumblr blog

originalferal · 22 days

Text

The tiny, starving fox followed the little girl to her door,

Not to bite, not to scare, but to sit on the front wet floor,

The girl ran in and the fox watched her through the screen,

It saw the girl hug one of its own, the puppy was living its dream.

As the shivers ran through its body, the fox folded into itself,

It could use a blanket but how was it supposed to ask for her help?

The girl was settling the pup into a fluffy bed with toys to snuggle,

The fox didn't make a sound when the wind pierced his skin, it was its usual struggle.

It was a beast of the forest, its fur matted with filth and mud,

But it never understood why the girl never stopped to pat its head,

It was love and love was for all to have, for all to keep, for all to feel,

Then why does it sense that affection was something it must steal?

The little girl came outside and saw the fox shuddering in the dark,

She ran away, panicked, waking up the puppy and it started to bark,

The fox sat still, maybe she would change her mind and bring it some food,

But he waited for a long time, an entire night passed and he stood where he stood.

25 notes · View notes

originalferal · 1 month

Text

We grew up.

142 notes · View notes

originalferal · 3 months

Text

Nobody tried. Nobody was allowed. Nobody asked. Nobody was denied. I was left unloved and nobody cared.

34 notes · View notes

originalferal · 4 months

Text

Dear God, don't let me get attached to those who aren't meant to stay in my life.

My only wish for this year.

51 notes · View notes

originalferal · 8 months

Text

'The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse' by Charlie Mackesy

73 notes · View notes

originalferal · 9 months

Text

I think I will always wonder if I could have saved you.

71 notes · View notes

originalferal · 11 months

Text

Lelo and Stitch, 2002.

42 notes · View notes

originalferal · 1 year

Text

24 notes · View notes

originalferal · 1 year

Text

Then one day I thought I was weak for not being able to kill myself. And that was the day I knew I needed help.

No one should ever think that they're "weak" for not being able to commit suicide.

41 notes · View notes

originalferal · 1 year

Note

How do you do? Are you healthy? What can I do for you?

I'm as good as any sad writer. Thank you for asking tho <3

3 notes · View notes

originalferal · 1 year

Text

Mother,

I wish I could tell you about my sickly blood,

It flows heavily, more mud than blood.

At night, your daughter thinks of killing herself,

Slitting a wrist, twisting a knife,

In the morning, she feels weak and exhausted.

Mother,

I wish I could tell you about my sticky flesh,

It doesn't like my bones anymore,

It wrapped so tightly that it suffocated them.

My bones died of suffocation, Mother.

My body is nothing but murderous flesh.

Mother,

I wish I could tell you about my heart,

It's small and runs fast, like a child.

It pumps poison through me on Tuesdays,

I don't feel my toes anymore, they are rotten.

No blood, I wonder when I'll rot past help.

Mother,

I wish I could tell you about my hair,

When they fall over my face and the world blurs,

Your daughter feels safe, hidden,

I can only breathe when I'm hidden, Mother.

I can only breathe when I'm hidden.

Mother,

I wish I could tell you about my lungs,

They drowned in their own liquid a while ago.

I miss them, but I can breathe fine without them,

All I feel is a set of dead heaviness sitting on my chest,

Crushing it, taking it all; taking me slowly.

37 notes · View notes

originalferal · 1 year

Text

This picture simulates the nightmarish experience of having a stroke particularly the ones that affect the optical lobe of the cerebral cortex, the part of the brain responsible for the visual perception. Everything looks familiar but at the same time unrecognizable like you're in a weird wrapped version of reality. Those who have experienced this type of stroke and survived have said that this picture accurately depicts how things appeared in those excruciating moments.