
titsay
Cosimo Galluzzi
DEAR READER

@theartofmadeline
noise dept.
cherry valley forever
NASA

tannertan36
occasionally subtle
taylor price

blake kathryn
One Nice Bug Per Day
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⁂
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Today's Document

#extradirty

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Mike Driver
todays bird

seen from United States

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seen from Switzerland

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@captain-pessimistic
by minimoss
oh, to live with sadness, so deep — it has started spreading; i can feel its crushing weight: a stampede.
my trampled bones have started to resemble wildflowers as they decay and the soil flinches at the sight of something so pure — something so tainted.
behold, the lamb of god has become the big, cruel wolf; this is what happens to delicate things after they’re done breaking — after they’re done rotting. this is what happens to pure things after the sins and sacrificial rites.
behold, the lamb of god — the scapegoat has become the wolf
and one day, it will outrun the forest fog — spreading — consuming. devouring. one day, it will outrun the howling in its chest. one day it will outrun the ironic aching of ribs, long emptied.
oh, to be a girl and not a wolf. to live with sadness and trampled bones. maybe one day, i too will outrun myself
— fray narte
art by: chelle tupas
My hands still remember the quiet aching of these wounds — too deep and wide for stitches and shaky hands. And so, I never learned to unpack my grief. It still is in a suitcase with December dusks and dreary summers — shut in secret library walls. I never learned to unpack my grief because I’m terrified that when I do, it’ll be way too messy to place it back where it belongs.
Some things, we never tell ourselves out loud.
— Fray Narte
Me: ah, finally I got everything done. Now I can relax.
My brain: Hey remember that trauma? Say hello again
Me: *sips out of cup with shakey hands* So relaxed