creatures Lie here

@butterflyheartflutter

I'm Keru, or Takeru, or sleepyhead. I'm mostly known for singing in SuG. I ooze out lots of sass and over think. R/S: taken | Twitter: heartgutter | Discord: Keru #4859 --- gen-friendly supernatural. 18+nsfw. all styles and verses welcome. disclaimer that no, not the real Takeru, not affiliated. only RP.

31.5K posts

Posts

tamquaam

//love & the sun// E.E. Cummings (unlove’s the heavenless hell and homeless home) / Hozier (Sunlight) / Madeline Miller (The Song of Achilles) / Jandy Nelson (I’ll Give You the Sun) / Yves Olade (When Rome Falls) / Movements (Daylily) / David Viscott

meiselr

Poetry Inspiration Moodboards | revenge

his laughter tastes like vengeance and she knows she will have to learn his name is holy

unorcadox

scandireader

i exchanged the plant that was in this pot for some daffodils and watered them and the pot started crying

lifeinpoetry

(Does that blood live inside me?) (Do I live inside that blood?)

— Kim Hyesoon, from “Red Scissors Woman,” tr. Don Mee Choi, published in The Margins

#melos

patrik-star

how y'all take 15-30 minute naps mine be like 2-4 hours

sunsbleeding

As it should be ☺️

mossyredwood

metsänpeitto – forest blanket. In Finnish mythology, this is the name of a place or state of mind where you can be led by magical creatures of the forest (dwarves?) and where even a familiar forest can seem strange and deceptive. in the past, people who got lost in the forest for unexplained reasons said that they 'fell under the forest cover'. 'but there's a way out!' that's what my grandmother used to say, which her mother taught her once when they got lost in a cloudberry swamp. 'I need to turn my socks inside out!'

— Saara Alhopuro

Pictures by rubrum_one

lifeinpoetry

I want to tell you exactly what I mean. I have split the wood of my youth, over and over, looking for a grain I can at least recognize. Then this morning I awoke in awe of the world, of these breaths I’m allowed to take from it, and of you. I write this poem and wash my hands.

— Curtis LeBlanc, from “Axe Head,” Birding in the Glass Age of Isolation

#space #p

soracities

Julio Cortázar, Hopscotch (trans. Gregory Rabassa)

[Text ID: “As if you could pick in love, as if it were not a lightning bolt that splits your bones and leaves you staked out in the middle of the courtyard.”]

#p