an epistolary labyrinth of absences.
Phoenixflare Week || Day 4: Touch-Starved (pt ii)
(long distance) Phoenixflare + So We Must Meet Apart
"In this light, two violinists faced each other—a man and a woman. The woman had her back to me. Their bows were like warped mirror images, one stretching out and up as the other pushed down and in, the two lines moving in relation. And in this manner, they made not the same music but an overlapping.
I began to wonder in that moment (and I still wonder now) why my lips twitch at each discordant twoness. Is it joy? A grimace? Recognition?"
77 notes
·
View notes
I am not really there
Marya Hornbacher, Madness: A Bipolar Life /// Ramon Casas, Laziness, c1898-1900 /// Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar /// Edward Hopper, Morning Sun, 1952 /// Gail Honeyman, Elinor Oliphant is Completely Fine /// Reynier Llanes, The Poet, 2021 /// Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1931–1934 /// Amy Dury, Glasgow Girl 2, 2019 /// Rebecca Ross, Divine Rivals /// Adrienne Gaha, Blue Uniform, 2016
124 notes
·
View notes
I was looking through my notes/drafts and I found this and I have no idea what I was on when I wrote this
as you can see I never finished whatever this was supposed to be lmao
48 notes
·
View notes
samsara
In every life i have
Met you, known you and loved you
We are intertwined
63 notes
·
View notes
Survivor (Victim)
Did I survive? I breathe, I think,
but am I alive?
I did not overcome—I failed,
gave in, gave up.
I never fought, and never won.
I slayed no demons—I couldn’t
face them. I left
the door wide open, let them in, let them
change me, erase
me,
bury me cold,
six feet under their monstrous weight,
I laid down and was grateful
for the rest and how they allowed me to
hide. I closed my eyes,
but my mouth like a wound remains
open, waiting
for the right moment—for the right
words—to scream, waiting
for caring hands
to claw through the earth and tear my body
free—
waiting always, always choking
on the dirt that fills my lungs,
as countless bright full summers
pass above. Is this breathing?
Is this living? I fear I’m just a ghost,
a whisper
of what could have been, what once was
—tethered to this place
by a thin thread—
You have not found my corpse.
12 notes
·
View notes
i was told that i don't open up much.
but would you take a flower from its garden and
plant it where it cannot grow,
hoping, praying, and expecting for that flower
to open for you? you're not my sun nor my
open sky nor wriggling worms in dirt that's
mine, all mine.
you cannot expect me to open for you
if you do not feed my roots.
6 notes
·
View notes
i have not been sleeping,
having been instead haunted
by a shadow that looms above,
his limbs at my sides,
a cold yet soft cage that had me
believed i was his beloved rabbit, as
the spirit presses against me and
his lips press against me
and his words, pressed, are
against me and—
i have been losing sleep,
having been charmed, bedeviled,
by no dreams of counting lambs or
of unrealized, yet abundant, hope,
but of sacrifices, of spilled blood, and
of the shadow of a wolf cast
against the sheets of this bed, and
i can only lay once-white fur
against this devil's vitiated altar,
succumbing to his shadow's haunt
for a sleepless eternity, inevitable;
8 notes
·
View notes
this is the most amazing """critique""" of a poem i have ever read in my entire life. i literally cannot even be angry. this is the cinemasins sensibility taken to its logical endpoint. the crystalized essence of anti-metaphor anti-imagery brainpoisoning. the walking embodiment of the reddit persona. please, GoodIntroduction6344, lend me your brain. i too would like to see the world sometime as a rock does
87 notes
·
View notes
If season 5 steve was just full chest bush
And billy came back with a full beard and his thick meaty thighs
And then they made out
I would watch
29 notes
·
View notes
did I do something right? the world is being kinder to me.
no, it's not being kinder. I've finally started accepting its kindness. I breath in the air and hold on to the good; and I keep the bad in my heart, to keep me human. I keep everything inside of me as a reminder that I'm real, I'm alive, I'm here.
I'm here, and the wind rushes as I run. I'm alive, and I stifle laughter from outrageous messages. I'm real, and I reach out - and people reach back. they're real, they're alive, they're here, and they've been calling out for me, for us.
I did do something right. I started loving myself a little bit more. the world is not kinder; I am.
thank you for your loving.
11 notes
·
View notes
darkroom
Lover, linger with me
Welcome to the place
Where light evaporates
Evade those eyes, instead
Dance here in the shadows
We can melt in the night
The onyx curtain
Drapes us in secrets—
Our bodies whisper
50 notes
·
View notes
Kaeya and Rethel both have a favorite method to ward off any potential suitors, and it’s dueling.
4 notes
·
View notes
“Could you do something helpful today?”
And she says it in the tone of
“nothing you ever do is helpful,”
or “you’re useless.”
Like it wasn’t three days ago
I was sobbing into her shoulder
because I wanted to die.
She doesn’t seem to understand
that on my best days,
all I can manage to do is
take a shower and cook soup
in the microwave.
I go to a job where I have to stand
and watch people drink their days away,
come home and try to stay awake
until the sun goes down.
I do my best to spend two
of my three days off
doing any chore.
It takes all day,
to convince myself I can do it,
just one chore for this day,
that it’s worth the effort.
Because even breathing
doesn’t feel worth the effort.
- she’ll never understand it
5 notes
·
View notes
Does anyone recognize this poem? Know what it's called? Who wrote it?
8 notes
·
View notes
eagle colorado mountain lifestyle (2022)
"our dog wees inside our stinkee houce we d'ont clean it up"
submitted by @goldpilot22
67 notes
·
View notes
oh oh/ i understand/
this is the fall from the Garden.
excerpt from chastening by honey by Ntozake Shange
2 notes
·
View notes