ᶳᴼ ᵂᴴᴬᵀ ᴵᶠ ᴵ'ᴹ ᶜᴿᴬᶻᵞ ˀ (autoplay)

written by malika

[mitchellwrites]

deathless ♚ sentence meme

You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast.

You are going to break your promise. I understand.

You’re lonely too.

It will stop your breath, how cruel I can be.

I am a demanding creature. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable.

I am your servant.

I crawl at your feet; for before your love, your kisses, I am debased.

For you alone I will be weak.

I belong here, and you will not deny me.

I say these things, and the world listens.

I do not tolerate a world emptied of you. I have tried.

In the dark, I have pored over the loss of you like pale gold.

I will not let her speak because I love her, and when you love someone, you do not make them tell war stories.

I moved the earth and the water for you.

You will always run away with her.

You will always lose her.

You will always be a fool.

You will always be dead, in a city of ice, snow falling into your ear.

You have already done all of this and will do it again.

No one should be judged for loving more than they ought, only for loving not enough.

We look terrible to you, and severe, and you see our blood flying.

What we carry between us is hard-won, and we made it just as we wished it to be, just the color, just the shape.

There need never be any rules between us.

Let us be greedy together; let us hoard.

Do not leave me, swear that you will never leave me.

I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I.

Sleep with fists closed and shoot straight.

I can’t abide a poor liar.

You look like a winter’s night. I could sleep inside the cold of you.

Oh, quit that. Blushing is for virgins and Christians.

Scold me; deny me. Tell me you want what you want and damn me forever. But don’t leave me.

Bad luck relies on absolutely perfect timing.

In his own country, Death can be kind.

What is the world but a boxing ring where fools and devils put up their fists?

Men die. It’s practically what they’re for.

I am no one; I am nothing.

Nothing in me was not made by you.

A revelation is always the end of something. It might even be cause for grief.

Just tell yourself a story that’ll satisfy you and pretend he told it.

Forever isn’t bright; it isn’t like that. Forever is cold and hard and final.

I savor bitterness - it is born of experience. It is the privilege of one who has truly lived.

If you want to kill yourself, do not use us as your knife.

What did I do wrong? Was I boring? Did I ignore you?

Don’t you dare speak to me like that.

I have worn nothing but blood and death for years.

I have fought all your battles for you, just as you asked me.

I have learned not to cry when I strangle a man.

I have learned to watch everything die.

I am not a little girl anymore, dazzled by your magic. It is my magic, now, too.

Are we not devils?

No one is now what they were before the war.

I have not seen you without your skin on.

Close up your head; your brain is getting loose.

We obsess. It’s in our nature.

I’ve a devil of a habit for being right.

In war you must always choose sides.

If you try to be a bridge laid down between them, they will tear you in half.

We are all dead. All equal. Broken and aimless and believing we are alive.

My old bones will follow yours soon enough.

It is better to be strong and cruel than to be fair.

I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.

After love, no one is what they were before.

I have survived, but I have not been spared.

In the space of one heartbeat to another I loved you and I was lost to you.

Frighten me, make me cry, only come back.

It’s not so bad, my darling. Being dead. It’s like being alive, only colder.

You’ll think it’s love, while he dines on your heart.

You will be so beautiful when you are old.

I cannot keep you and I cannot let you go.

You will live as you live in any world…with difficulty, and grief.

I look at you and it is like my throat being cut.

She said you’d come and I swore to eat your heart.

I still want to kiss you.

My heart is being cut in two. I cannot bear it.

What happens to anything beautiful?

I have to know, I have to or else you will just rule me until the end of everything because you know and I do not.

[secretusreginam]

                                             Beautiful. Powerful. Dangerous. Cold…

Plagued with demons born from tragic past, I live with so much sorrow weighing me down. And the FEAR…it lurks in the shadows, slithers around the surface of my mind. All that can be heard are words of malice, used to break me. But they do not know my strength. For all my WOUNDS will scar over, new marmoreal flesh to take its place. I become a woman of strength who drinks from the golden sun and feeds on the F R E E D O M around me. These demons will remain in the past. Perhaps a monster in the eyes of the misunderstanding, but forever a Queen born from freshly FALLEN snow. 

                                       INDEPENDENT QUEEN ELSA      written by malika

[76cutthroat]

alphabet boy - melanie martinez

[ravensandrocks-deactivated20200]

If you really love me, she purred, fuck me like you hate me.

Michael Faudet  (via michaelfaudet)

[crydxlly-blog]

brain: ur afraid of destroying your relationships right

me:

brain: what if u destroyed them on purpose

me:

brain: it would give u control of the situation and u wouldn't have to worry about it anymore

me:

me: go on

[crydxlly-blog]

(WEAR WHATEVER YOU WANT):

❝    well ,     usually    people   are                    telling  me  what  to  wear  ;what   not   to   wear.     ‘  lose   the   flannel  ’   ,     so   I   just   assumed   you   were   too.    but   if   that’s   how  you   think   it’s   .  .  .   mildly  nice.                     you   do   that   often ?       SEE   how   people  look ?      ❞

      ❝Well, I say 'fuck them'. You wanna wear a flannel, you FLAUNT it for the world to see. They don't approve, oh well. Unless you ask for it, I don't think anyone should tell you shit about what to do with your appearance. But anyways, yeah, I guess I do that. Though it's more like I see INTO them, not at them. When you've been through the same shit as me, you look past the fake guise people show. It helps to rule out the PSYCHOS from the sane ones.❞

[marcegarcia89]

[crydxlly-blog]

(AT LEAST YOU'RE HONEST):

❝    I’m  sorry ,  but                       you’re  not  here  to   give  me   fashion  advice ,   are  you ?    because   I   don’t   pay  much  attention   to   them    &   keep  forgetting  the   two  or  three   I  listen  to.    ❞

@crydxlly   /   ♥  

      ❝Why the hell would I give you fashion advice? To be completely blunt, I could care less what anyone looks like. If you think you look GOOD, then you do you... But if you were to ask me how someone looks, I'll gladly go into full JUDGMENTAL mode; no hesitation.❞

[crydxlly-blog]

                                                           THEY CALL YOU CRY BABY... 

                          Tears manifest within emotive eyes; pipes have BURST and the water rushes.

Heartbreak, cataclysm, trauma, necrosis. You don’t bleed crimson, you bleed SIN and all lurid thoughts. You don’t cry tears, you cry enigma and every written T R A G E D Y. A new obstacle every three steps taken. One. Two. Three. What new hinge awaits? Another lover turned victim? More blood to besmirch tiled floor? A wrong move that plunges ephemeral quintessence further down the depths of DELIRIUM? --A mad world thrives within your cranium and the freaks that inhabit it are calling out to be released to play. A hellish world thrives within your mind and the DEMONS that dwell inside are clawing at the walls to be let out into reality. Oh, but those are only the few unlucky ones. They've slipped through the cracks that fabricate with every moment of vulnerability and take position at your heels as your shadow. Hidden in plain sight. But the world you live in has sculpted you into a woman who WELCOMES these internecine entities. And though they be the cause of those dolent tears, you show no fear in exposing them for all to bear witness to. 

                                       INDEPENDENT CRY BABY      written by malika

[admittedfashionaddict]

[crydxlly-blog]

(FASHION POLICE):

              an  ivory  mitt  is  placed  with  POISE  upon  on  a  ever  so  bony  hip  .  honeyed  hues  are  gazing  at  the  other  with  perhaps  a  look  of  CONCERN  set  within  seraphic  eyes  .  ❛  ——  that  doesn’t  match  .  ❜  ROSE  STAINED  lips  wreath  themselves  into  a  provoking  crescent  ,  ( half  -  supreme  &.  half  -  predatory  )  &.  for  the  briefest  of  seconds  ,  blonde  curls  BOUNCE  across  her  shoulder  as  a  step is  taken  towards  them  .  ❛  and  i  am  fully  aware  that  you  did  not  ask  for  my  opinion  ,  however  ,  i  believe  that  EVERYONE  must  be  EDUCATED  in  proper  attire  etiquette  .  otherwise  ,  it  is  just  t r a g i c  .  ❜

      ❝Oh no. Now my life will finally meet it's END. And my last moments would have been in this horrific attire.❞

Acerbity drips from tongue, russet irises FEIGNING perturbation before visage succumbs to divulge discernible vexation. But physiognomy is quick to transpose DEMEANOR into an aspect of bantam gratitude. Without qualm, mind speculates any other personage would have allowed woman to wander in current semblance. If description provided from lips of other proved any veracity, there was no need to ostensibly depict the cataclysm she is. Such opprobrium, too. The outfit was rather VENERATED through sepia eyes.

      ❝Fine. Then do educate me. I'm dying to receive your tips and advice.❞

[dvoyd]

we’re all killers. we’ve all killed parts of ourselves to survive. we’ve all got blood on our hands. something somewhere had to die so we could stay alive.

if memories could bleed, if dreams could scream | m.a.w (via lycanking)

[noaccomplice-blog]

NOAH FOSTER.    when   murder   hits   this   close   to   home   it   makes   you   see   the   world   in   a   new   way.   people,   too. even   the   ones   you   TRUST   start   to   look   a   little   different.   because   when   everyone’s   a   suspect,   there   is   no   innocence.   pinned   in   the   forefront   of   your   murder   board   is   her   photograph   with   angry   red   lettering   titling   her   the   prime   suspect   of   your   own   investigation.   the   shrill   &   firm   voice   of   emma   claiming   that   it   cannot   be   her   echoes   in   your   mind.   but   she   has   yet   to   see   what   you   have.   (    you   begged   for   the   truth   &   you   received   it.    )   it   sits   in   your   lap   waiting   to   actually   be   picked   up   &   placed   into   hands.   you   are   reluctant   towards   it.   you   do   not   want   to   hold   it   just   yet.   it   is   not   the   shining   beacon   of   clarity   you   once   thought   it   would   be.   you   are   not   exactly   sure   on   whether   you   want   to   prove   her   innocence   or   catch   her   in   the   act   with   crimson   stained   hands.   you’re   not   even   sure   what   is   being   sought   out   but   you   tail   her.   gaze   intently   focused.   she   catches   you.   you   have   your   suspicions   &   she begins   to   have   hers   unbeknownst   to   you.   you   stand   in   a   darkened   parking   lot   late   that   evening   slowly   &   gradually   breaking   all   of   your   horror   movie   rules.   you   go   to   search   out   strange   happenings   with   nothing   found.   returning   to   your   car,   no   scream   is   uttered   as   you   are   chloroformed.   no   one   will   rescue   you   this   time.   NO   ONE   IS   COMING.   your   deathbed   confessions   are   mere   jokes.   speak   of   a   disliked   cat,   of   a   lie   regarding   favorite   movie,   of   things   trivial.   you’re   not   going   to   talk   about   how   you   witnessed   a   girl   bleed   out   atop   the   police   station   roof   while   you   were   helplessly   on   the   phone   with   her.   you   can   speak   of   feeling   something   when   a   kiss   with   the   girl   held   captive   with   you   occurred,   but   not   about   how   things   between   them   have   deteriorated   badly.   she   has   something   to   tell   you   before   they   are   interrupted.   but   then   the   revelation   that   she   had   enacted   all   of   this   herself   is   revealed.   and   it   finally   kicks   in   what   she   is   capable   of.

AUDREY JENSEN.    you   see   it   in   his   eyes    &    you   hear   it   in   his   tone.   SUSPICION   OF   YOU.   the   innocent   days   of   bicurious   &   the   virgin   are   over   and   god   do   you   know   it.   panic   blooms   in   your   belly    ;    in   your   mind.   you   know   that   something   needs   to   be   done   before   his   truth   begging   results   in   having   seen   too   much.   your   impulsive   nature   takes   over   you   once   again.   you   follow   him.   you   slide   on   a   familiar   mask   &   robe.   while   he   goes   to   sleuth,   you   stealthily   crawl   into   the   backseat   of   a   car   you   have   been   in   many   times   before & await   his   return   with   materials   ready.   you   carry   out   your   plan   the   moment   he   slides   back   in.    (   his   body   goes   limp   before   a   sound   can   even   be   released.   )    tied   up   to   that   ride   later   on,   he   confesses   of   things   that   you   didn’t   need   to   ever   hear.   HE   CARES   ABOUT   YOU.   you   love   him   as   a   friend   but   deep   down   take   him   for   a   fool.   you   visit   him   after   the   chaos   as   he   is   ready   to   record   a   new   edition   of   his   podcast.   you   tell   yourself   that   you   are   ready   to   tell   the   truth.   perhaps   it   will   feel   like   relief   to   let   yourself   become   raw   &   exposed.   mouth   opened,   your   gaze   flickers   &   lands   on   the   murder   board   where   your   picture   is   proudly   showcased.   and   in   that   moment   your   mind   shifts.   the   lies   cascade   out   of   your   mouth   as   easily   as   ever.   after   all,   you   are   used   to   it.   he   tells   you   that   you   are   a   victim   —   just   like   the   rest   of   them   &   not   a   monster.   he   gives   you   a   hug.   it   is   a   tight   grasp.   it   feels   cold   &   hollow.   you   are   glad   that   you   cannot   see   his   eyes.   you   already   know   his   gaze   is   not   one   of   warmth.

nor   did   he   ever   turn   off   his   recording   equipment   despite   awareness   that   it   was   on.           //           written by megan  &  ashley !

[crydxlly-blog]

          Curiosity and irascibility ALTERCATE in ubiety of correlative individual. Oaken gaze FEIGNS probity as they stare appraisingly; occasional rapid blinking to insinuate subtle inquisition of 'WHY' (one blink, two blink, three; pause, pause, pause...REPEAT). Tawny citrine visage remains partially stoic as eyes sedately converse with outer involvement whilst mind vocalizes pugnacity in the casing of anatomy. But the voices are merely old companions; nothing that has not been dealt with prior to prevailing event. Bickering between voices now resonated as CROONING amongst ataxia delineated within world.

      ❝Why are you here again? What is it that you WANT?❞

@weavingtongues

[lettervrucht]

album aesthetics: cry baby by melanie martinez 

“Saddest girl she has to be, salty tears stream down her cheek, her heart’s bigger than her body, her name is cry baby.”

[crydxlly-blog]

(BROOKE):

 abeyance   of   mobility    &    repudiation   of   responsibility   are   a   PACKAGE   DEAL      (   for   what   is    pride   without   touch   of   sloth   ?   ) .    such   a   common   tale’s   opening   circumstance   NEVER   dares    to   stray   from   typical  :      silent   mutual   agreement   plays   predecessor   to   eldritch   stillness ,    handful    of   seconds    S T R E T C H E D    into   languid   prolixity     –––––––  -  -  -     all   CRUCIAL   ELEMENTS   in    ensuring   of    idle   euphoria   !       (   when   outstretched   arms   of   hebetude   pose   warmer   welcome    than   those   of   FATE’S   BLIND   DEALING ,    how   is   one   to   REFUSE   ?   )     memorized   tone   arrives    hand - in - hand   with   notification ,    derails   train   of   thought .    absence   of   prior   notice   solicits   brief    glance   aimed   OVER   device ,    quizzical   lifting   of   brow   as   slender   digits   ASSUME   POSITION ,

【  MESSAGE  . 】   sure .   if   i   ever   forgive   u   for   interrupting   my   diving   into                                   the   gorgeous   depths   of   matthew   nozka’s   instagram   lol . 【  MESSAGE  . 】   .   .   .    jk   jk .    anything   specific   in   mind   or .

          A SATISFYING rejoinder! Familiar chime resonates through reticent ambience insinuating obtained memorandum. Regardless if other was merely engaging in a round of lethargy to CONCILIATE brunette or was feeling correlative rapport, disclosed endeavor was eminently APPRECIATED. Russet orbs scan words imprinted on illuminated screen, varnished lips vellicating into furtive grin. Scrolling through social pages took the pretense of innocuous STALKING through the eyes of one all too versant with being catenated. But even the most diminutive amounts of lust makes contact with all whom inhabit the earth (no being shall allege PURITY, for ephemeral beings such as humans already hold a place as sinners in the eyes of God; seven deadly vices do not exist without bearing claim upon every human that takes first breath. It is preordained!) Thumbs hover as antiphon is contemplated.

      『MESSAGE』 u’ll get over it. i highly doubt the guy plans on deleting any time soon.                                        it’ll still be there

      『MESSAGE』 but we should get expensive food

      『MESSAGE』 mother dearest left her purse lying abt again nd my fingers just so happened                                         to discover her American Express

[drowngrief]

 customary   to   remain   sylphine    &    lithe   in   execution   of   each   movement ,      timbre   that   falls   upon  due   lacunas   identified   without   hassle   as   deceptively   mellisonant   /   honey - drenched   /   SACCHARINE    ;        statuvolism   has   become   your   forte ,    a   game   played   with   deft   hand ,     &   collection   of   well - kept   secrets   to   success   reside   upon   your   sleeve    in   place   of   your    heart ,    a   faint   aureate   glimmer   behind   self - constructed   carapace .     however ,    events   have  a   funny   way   of   unfolding   to   unmask   TITANIUM   as   porcelain ,    to   send   long - constructed   walls   crumbling   after   lifetime   of   strenuous   laboring .     and   for   what   –––– - - -   ?   

 A   SHATTERED   EUCATASTROPHE    –––––   CHAOS   ENSUES   !      blindly   do   staves   run   together ,  line   after   line   blurred ,    BLEEDING   into   the   next   ;     a   queen   bound   to   the   moment   by  sharp   breaths   &   burning   gazes ,    dethroned   by   the   irrepressible    /    by   flash   of   light   against    silver ,     poised   to   cut   away   any   trace   of   lost   nonpareils   (  oh ,   my   friends ,   forgive   me  )   /   by   the    MORASS   and   the   MASSES   and   the   mercilessness   of   it   all .   so   what   do   you   do   ?                         you   breathe   in ,    breathe   out .    allow   yourself   a   moment’s   catharsis ,                                           ––––––––   - - -    AND     THEN     YOU     REBUILD .     

         (     independent .    selective .    semi - private   BROOKE   MADDOX   of   mtv’s   SCREAM .     )                                                                            penned   by   nicki .