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ninasdrafts · 3 years ago
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You‘ll regret it, you know. Not trying harder to make it work. You probably think she didn’t notice, but oh, she did from the very beginning. She picked up on your nervous habits the first time you met. Saw the way you caught your bottom lip between your teeth, how you constantly reached up to touch your nose. How your eyes flickered down to her lips when she spoke. When she pressed her head to your chest, she felt your heart thunder. There‘s no point in telling her that maybe what you felt wasn’t enough. That it wasn’t the same for you. That you weren’t sure about the two of you. You want to let her go, because she makes you feel things you’ve never felt before, and so you move on to pointless excuses. You find ridiculous reasons to drive her away from you. But she’s never been easy to fool. In an instant, she‘ll know you lied and she‘ll take it as her cue to leave without a fight. She won’t ask you to explain. She won’t call again. And you‘ll be the one to stay awake at night, wondering who she‘s spending her time with. Pondering about who took your place. And still, you’re not sure if the pain you’re feeling over losing her will fade in time. Your mistake is you think you know what it‘s like to get attached and you are convinced that the more you win in a short space of time, the more you‘ll have to lose. But it’s not the same with her. Your feelings for her were so intense, they scared you. You were absolutely terrified of what you would do for her. Was it worth it, I’m asking you now, sending her away because you knew you’d lose her anyway? I’m not saying holding on to her was easy: she was too reckless, too unpredictable, too emotional. She was a mess, but she was the mess that you wanted. So call her before it’s too late. Pluck up your courage and say what you’ve been wanting to say all along before she’s gone for good and no one’s around to watch the words die in your throat.
fight or flight / n.j.
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merulae · 2 years ago
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We look at the world once, in childhood. The rest is memory.
Louise Glück, from “Nostos” in Meadowlands
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myfairyqueenmercury · 2 years ago
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'Every time you go out of the house you take the bloody thing off. Why?' I said. Freddie said nothing and slipped the ring on. Then he kissed me and we got into bed. After that night Freddie always wore his wedding ring and it never came off his finger again, even when he washed.
 - Jim Hutton, Mercury and Me
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poetryandthesea · 3 years ago
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I understand that your mind is a battlefield, that you're fighting each day and each night to make it out alive, but tell me; who's going to win when you're going to war against yourself?
// I still dream of the peace you never granted yourself j.d.m.
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i-wrotethisforme · 2 years ago
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I need you to promise me one thing, no matter what. When we’re happy and when we’re fighting. Even if we decide to be together forever. I don’t need extravagant gestures or expensive gifts or fancy words. There’s only one thing I need you to promise me. When I’m sad, when you’re sad, when I say I’m going to leave, and if I actually leave. No matter how in love with each other we are, when we’re so comfortable with each other we feel like the same person. I still need you to promise me one thing. Promise me you’ll never stop trying.
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merulae · a year ago
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What can you know about a person? They shift in the light. You can’t light up all sides at once. Add a second light and you get a second darkness
Richard Siken, from “Portrait of Fryderyk in Shifting Light” in War of the Foxes
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ireadyabooks · 2 years ago
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CALL DOWN THE HAWK: EXCERPT REVEAL
Thanks to the incredible power of The Raven Cycle fandom, we can now exclusively reveal the first 8 chapters of CALL DOWN THE HAWK!
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Are you ready? 
Call Down the Hawk Exclusive Excerpt by I Read YA on Scribd
Pre-Order Your Copy Now! 
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meanwhilepoetry · 3 months ago
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Sometimes I think of you, Medusa. Inside your temple, mournful, surrounded by a hundred stone statues. The men who came to kill you and never left  were named lost heroes, warriors, demigods whilst you were called monster, gorgon, terror. (Because the stories were always written by men) But this was never a story about a monster. It was always about a woman burned for a Sea God’s sin, a pawn in an ancient game the fates would never let her win. You did not desecrate that which is sacred, it was him. (But your story was always written by men) You begged him not to visit you, you pleaded with every God. But the Gods turned away when you needed them. You did not want to be remembered this way. And then one day, whilst you slept, a son of Zeus came. And killed you before you could even look his way. (And he too was named hero because the stories were always written by men) Someone once said, words cut deeper than a knife. That history is told by the victors. That he who tells the story is the one who controls the world. Women did not get to write your story, Medusa. Because if we did, a very different tale would be told. (And in our tale, you would not be Monster. But Priestess. Goddess. A maiden who once had a heart of gold.)
Nikita Gill, Excerpt from Maidens, Myths and Monsters
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