Midsummer
Midsummer
I feel laden with unsaid dreams
spilling over my hair, my feet
walking through a daylit night
full of sparkling stars and troubled sleep
More Posts from Moonlitmirror and Others
I’ve just finished reading The Girl Who Chased the Moon and magic realism is my new favourite thing - historical fantasy has always been my lane, but I’m definitely branching out. I have already ordered some more of Sarah Addison Allen’s books and I’m thinking of making a list of some more magical realism books. Recommendations are welcome!
Will this day ever end
for fear of waking again;
a new rise, a new day
forever a lifetime away
Wednesday, 28th July 2021
Love is more than the dream wistfully painted across torn pages in dripping ink and meadows of wildflowers, by writers and poets huddled by candlelight seeing love written in beloved faces. Seeing love in yearning clouds slowly chasing after the sun's fragile rays. Love is heartache and hurt and pain - a climbing river pushing back against everything you know. It inspires and challenges, it breathes life and ends it. It is everything we want and everything we do not dare to have. Love can bring just as much destruction to the harmony it creates. But it’s never about what love is or what it is not - it is how we shape its destiny within our own lives that counts. Love will always be with you, but will you let it stay? And sometimes we know that we just have to chase it away.
Having an existential crisis over whether people love me or not when it's really just poor communication skills on my part due to dyspraxia and low self-esteem gaah
eagle: so what do you think about stigmata
prometheus: you know we're in a pre-christian myth, right? like that word doesn't exist yet. your dumb joke is anachronistic.
eagle: stigma talons in your flesh
“The moon is honey on the mouths of madmen”
— Guillaume Apollinaire, from Claire de Lune; Alcools: Poems (tr. by Donald Revell), 1913
I am hollow in this coursing wind, a brightened shell and song within.
I am raging in this ocean sky, the greying light a burning sign.
I am buried in my absent mind, wrapped and beating this blurry sound.
Mackenzie Herbert, Chasing Trains // Artwork by @/archbudzar on ig // Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration // Lana M.H. Wilder
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Historian, writer, and poet | proofreader and tarot card lover | Virgo and INTJ | dyspraxic and hypermobile | You'll find my poetry and other creative outlets stored here. Read my Substack newsletter Hidden Within These Walls. Copyright © 2016 Ruth Karan.
179 posts