recycling words

"i seek fit words to paint the blackest face of woe" - astrophel and stella

[jiangwanyin]

— vladimir nabokov, in a letter to his wife [24 march 1937] from letters to véra (trans. olga voronina & brian boyd)

[astrophelian]

nano words//snippets dump!!

Jo grinned knowingly, and with the splotchy patches of sunlight on her face, she looked like an angel the heavens didn’t deserve, “but what are stars? Bless me with your words.” 

[spideyversebrainrot]

snippet  👁 👄 👁

[astrophelian]

-a.h.

[astrophelian]

-a.h.

[astrophelian]

[astrophelian]

we will be myths: our blood will blossom flowers, our ashes will grow trees and years from now our divinity will bleed from the pages.

-a.h.

[spideyversebrainrot]

i can finally write but it’s still trash

the doc file:

the shitty poem:

[astrophelian]

[spideyversebrainrot]

last line tag

tagged by @omnianas​ pffffft its not like i took more than a week to respond myri!! i love that line. thanks for the tag <3 anyways i haven’t been writing much but here’s a terrible excerpt of a poem about my terrible school. 

[spideyversebrainrot]

my name is lee and i love hurting my characters

The world had been so unwelcoming to her and it finally kicked her out.

Teddy was in the brink of hoping, that Reese was with the moon and the stars, that she would be part of countless eclipses and equinoxes, that her light would manifest in aphelions and perihelions, that she was a part of a constellation or a comet - she never was grounded in the earth anyways. Her mind soared like shooting stars and her fingers moved like exploding nebulae, and god, her heart beat like the universe relied on it, her heart loved like a thousand multi-verses verging into an infinitely perfect synchrony.

But she was simply gone, only existing by her lack of existence. Only remembered, and in a couple of centuries - forgotten, like she was never there.

There was nothing left of her to love.

-a.h.

[spideyversebrainrot]

Last Line Tag

Tagged by @omnianas ​thank you <3 <3. I absolutely loved your snippet and what do you mean ‘death’? *insert raised eyebrow emoji*

Rules: Post the last line(s) from something you’ve been working on.

my writing has been meh recently, halfway into August and my soul is still recovering from July NaNo, but here you guys go! Working on the second draft of pseudosunlight and nothing has changed, still doesn’t make any sense.

“Drink up,” he says. 

“Will I get to kiss her if I do?” It was a good idea, her cowardice heart thought. To be able to kiss her without thinking, kiss her senseless. To know what her lips taste like, to know what it’s like to hold such a soft, chimerical soul - all justified by the influence of smooth alcohol. 

“It’s called liquid courage for a reason. Also should be consensual.”

“I’m not stupid.” she said, squinting her eyes at him. 

He tilted his head, “Just a chicken.”

no i’m not self-projecting pfffffftt

tagging @cometworks and @keeperofthequill, and to anybody else who wants to join! would love to read snippets, but no pressure!

[spideyversebrainrot]

in relation to a recent reblog

[astrophelian]

here is a dream

we are under the stars, lips swollen, voices echoing. we speculate everything. (how much of an asshole was aristotle. how bad does oscar wilde really seem. who the fuck is shakespeare.)

here is a dream

I meet the cold morning breeze, and your poetry is by my doorstep coupled with daisies like the ones you hold in your eyes. your words and soft metaphors and striking truths are the first things I witness in the morning.

here is a dream

I treasure the dried tears on paper, tracing your handwriting with my finger. I press the daisies between one of my tattered paperbacks. I smile at the fact that you've always preferred hardcovers over paperbacks. I chuckle at the irony of how you're the one who commutes more but opts for the heavier option.

here is a dream

there are painted flowers in a small sunlit corner. I see art in wafting steam of either coffee or tea. it doesn't matter but it does, we love both. I tape the napkin poetry and ballpoint drawings on the kitchen walls. I write poetry and love notes on post-its and slip it inside your current book for you to find. you gently pry off my glasses and bookmark my paperback and kiss my forehead after I've fallen asleep while reading.

here is a dream

we grow mint and basil and succulents. you name a flower after me, metaphorically. I sew your name in embroidery thread and put it in calligraphy. because after poetry and I love you, your name is the best word I know.

here is a dream

we riffle through pages of philosophical writings and memoirs and I ruffle your hair and kiss your sun-dappled skin. we listen to music. your presence is the peaceful sort of gloom I long for in a hot day. I am filled with love and tenderness for you.

here is a dream

we find the answer to love, we find the answer through each other.

-a.h.

[spideyversebrainrot]

sing an ardent tune on the moon’s surface a beautiful thing on top of another slender, supple overwhelmingly human my words don’t make dents like the sound of her breath does

-a.h.

[spideyversebrainrot]

WAIT FUCK WRONG BLOG WRONG BLOG WRONG BLOG HHHHHHHHHH

[astrophelian]

sun-basked and spitting sunflower seeds we ran miles our feet went numb, cursing soaked pages-

if you let me and if i let myself i could've read your soul like a poem, i could have lost myself in you like with any piece of art

and i would lose you if i could have every part of history rewritten and maybe then i'll be yours.

-a.h.

[astrophelian]

          sky blue

see here, you are the sky - blue and lonesome and unending how can something be both a comforting and terrifying?

you, so vast and full of words i wish i could hold this hue, reflecting deeper complexities left unexplored

you are something i cannot reach

maybe someday gravity/white sails and masts/the tides/our pulses will lead us to each other

and on that day we will float along and around the edge of the earth

and we will be more than a dream.

i am a fool and you're so much more than words.