— Virginia Woolf
Me after coming back to this hellsite after 9 years
I need a hug.
Fuck I need more than that
I need rope to tie me so tightly the pieces will stay together
You kept me like a secret, but i kept you like an oath.
I desire nothing. Truly. My gut burns with lust for nothingness in its purest form.
— ( @songs-of-venus )
Pick your poison babe, I’m poison either way
There is something to be said about the way in which a memory fades - like ink in water, rippling until it is no longer there.
It fades with the finality of a written ending, in way it leaves no room for further discussion; it simply vanishes.
And like ink in water, it is hard to catch before it leaves completely. It simply stains other memories, giving a gray veil
that wasn't there before. But its echo - that noise it made while it lived, forever remains in your brain.
~ Ely C. Winters.
𝑇h𝑖s i𝑠 𝑚y l𝑎s𝑡 𝑙o𝑣e l𝑒t𝑡e𝑟 𝑡o y𝑜u, 𝑡h𝑜u𝑔h s𝑜m𝑒 𝑤o𝑢l𝑑 𝑐a𝑙l i𝑡 𝑎 𝑐o𝑛f𝑒s𝑠i𝑜n.
I s𝑢p𝑝o𝑠e b𝑜tℎ 𝑎r𝑒 𝑎 𝑠o𝑟t o𝑓 𝑔e𝑛t𝑙e v𝑖o𝑙e𝑛c𝑒, p𝑢t𝑡i𝑛g d𝑜w𝑛 𝑖n i𝑛k wℎa𝑡 𝑠c𝑜r𝑐h𝑒s tℎe a𝑖r wℎe𝑛 𝑠p𝑜k𝑒n a𝑙o𝑢d.
A Dowry of Blood, S.T. Gibson
i’m tired. but not just “didn’t sleep” tired. soul tired. bone tired. like my body keeps going but nothing inside knows why.
𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜, 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚜
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