Jewelia

20 :( || IG: @jeweliadelrey

[mournfulroses]

Eugenio Montale, from a poem titled "Dora Markus," featured in Selection of Modern Italian Poetry

[mournfulroses]

Giuseppe Ungaretti, from a poem titled "Christmas," featured in Selection of Modern Italian Poetry

[heavenpureheart]

[valtsv]

it is important that i am a little weird and offputting. necessary even.

[bodies-made-of-art]

Nude at the Window by Paul Paede (1913)

[obscureloftgem]

—“The Color of Pomegranates” (1969) | By Sergei Parajanov

Song: Born to Die by Lana Del Rey.

[fashionlandscapeblog]

The Color of Pomegranates (1968) - dir. Sergei Parajanov

[angelsofporn3]

I want Jesus to take me out of this life, baby

And I talk to Jesus

And ask him if he’ll think of saving me

[derangedrhythms]

How to get you out of me?

Anne Sexton, from ‘The Day Some Daisies Came’ published in ‘Anne Sexton: The Last Summer’ by Arthur Furst

[wordedarchive]

It's July and I have hope in who I am becoming.

Charlotte Eriksson via wordedarchive

[fairy-woes]

[ MIDWESTERN GOTHIC ]

[hellish-daddi]

[metamorphesque]

— august, tathève simonyan

[text ID: promises made by june / had rotten / by the time august came. / i’ve mistaken silence with nothingness / and unlearning it asks for courage / i know not how to muster. / this half-empty glass of orange juice, / ever-present on its throne of dust, / on this wooden table, / holds more promise than i ever will. / i, a personified you, for this is not a wall but a mirror / [personified] / i, i mean you, i mean [redacted] / you eat the sun and with your burnt tongue / try to sing songs / not about pain. / don’t you? / in july / [i] you tried to stretch the rare / moments of happiness but our feet / always seemed to stay out of the / blanket / uncovered. / how do i love something without / fully succumbing to it? / you thought you had to die for you to live, didn’t you? / you thought there’s always a spring after a winter / you didn’t think that / this vivaldian symphony hadn’t been written for bodies like ours, . did you? / in july / you didn’t know that loneliness is a crowded town / yet /  it’s always been bestowed upon you / to lock the gates / and turn off the lights / every night, / did you? / june made promises it knew it couldn’t keep. / but i shall be wiser / in august.]

[tulipsofthemorning]

[metamorphesque]

Wendy Cope, From June to December: Summer Villanelle

[dyintryin]

[academia-lucifer]

Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book.

— John Green.