Lizzie Stallion

Dark academia | Poetry | She/her | Instagram @ appllee.juice

[darkk-stallion]

holding their hand, wearing their sweaters, playing with their hair, loving smiles, adoring glances, a head on a shoulder, the stroke of a cheek, tracing scars, warm hugs, soft kisses, gently being held, swaying to slow songs, whispered goodnights, sweet I love yous, tenderness, quiet, tranquility. 

[rapidlydecayingcorpse]

in third grade on the swing with my friend i announced “i figured it out” and my friend said “figured what out” and i said “the meaning of life!” and being third graders this was very exciting so she leaned in and i whispered in her ear “it’s to have fun” and i don’t remember her reaction but i remember how i felt and how i knew so clearly that was the answer. how my small mind was beaming and shimmering with this answer that makes me scoff today but i know that they were right. i was right

[darkk-stallion]

I’m gonna be honest, I’m not much of a love poet, but if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I was gonna write about love, my first poem- it would be about you.

About how I love you the same way I learned how to ride a bike: scared, but reckless, with no training wheels or elbow pads, so my scars can tell the story of how I fell for you.

Rudy Francisco, To the Girl Who Works at Starbucks

[darkk-stallion]

I’m sorry I cannot say I love you when you say

you love me. The words, like moist fingers,

appear before me full of promise but then run away

to a narrow black room that is always dark,

where they are silent, elegant, like antique gold,

devouring the thing I feel. I want the force

of attraction to crush the force of repulsion

and my inner and outer worlds to pierce

one another, like a horse whipped by a man.

I don’t want words to sever me from reality.

I don’t want to need them. I want nothing

to reveal feeling but feeling—as in freedom,

or the knowledge of peace in a realm beyond,

or the sound of water poured in a bowl.”

— Henri Cole, “Gravity and Center”

[darkk-stallion]

They say nothing lasts forever but I’m writing you in the voice of an endangered species.

Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.

[mournfulroses]

Sylvia Plath, from a journal entry featured in "The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath,"

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

three stages of life:

1. there are monsters under my bed.

2. there are monsters in my head.

3. i am the monster now.

[darkk-stallion]

Years later, I am seventeen. Half daughter, half apology, all fire and the wrong kind of love.

Blythe Baird, If My Body Could Speak; “The way I was taught to love”

[darkk-stallion]

My wounds are all exacted by love, love, love, love

Forugh Farrokhzad

[darkk-stallion]

If you were a teacher, I would fail your class. Take it over and over ‘til you noticed me. If you were a waiting room, I would never see a doctor. I would sit there with my first-aid kit bleed.

Phoebe Bridgers, Waiting Room

[darkk-stallion]

And because I am your son, I said, "Sorry." Because I am your son, my apology had become, by then, an extension of myself. It was my Hello.

Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

[darkk-stallion]

“In my dream I apologize to everyone I meet. Instead of introducing myself, I apologize for not knowing why I am alive. I am sorry. I am sorry. I apologize. In real life, oddly enough, when I am fully awake and out and about, if I catch someone’s eye, I quickly look away. Perhaps this too is a form of apology. Perhaps this is the form apologies take in real life. In real life the looking away is the apology, despite the fact that when I look away I almost always feel guilty; I do not feel as if I have apologized. Instead I feel as if I have created a reason to apologize, I feel the guilt of having ignored that thing—the encounter. I could have nodded, I could have smiled without showing my teeth. In some small way I could have wordlessly said, I see you seeing me and I apologize for not knowing why I am alive. I am sorry. I am sorry. I apologize. Afterwards, after I have looked away, I never feel as if I can say, Look, look at me again so that I can see you, so that I can acknowledge that I have seen you, so that I can see you and apologize.”

Claudia Rankine, Don’t Let Me Be Lonely

[wordslaver]

you can love a monster， it can even love you back， but that doesn't change its nature.

[ahsteria]

“the arts and sciences are completely separate fields that should be pitted against each other” the overlap of the arts and sciences make up our entire perceivable reality they r fucking on the couch

[aaronstveit]

"if i was orpheus i would simply not turn around" yes you would. if you were orpheus and you loved eurydice, you would. to love someone is to turn around. to love someone is to look at them. whichever version of the myth — he hears her stumble, he can't hear her at all, he thinks he's been tricked — he turns around because he loves her. that's why it's a tragedy. because he loves her enough to save her. because he loves her so much he can't save her. because he will always, always turn around. "if i was orpheus i would simply —" you wouldn't be orpheus. you wouldn't be brave enough to walk into the underworld and save the person you love. be serious

[birdwatcher-butch]

one time i was having sex and i was going “i’m yours i’m yours i’m yours” and then my partner stopped all of a sudden and said “can we talk about new kinks before we introduce them during sex” and i was like yeah what but it turned out she thought i was saying im a horse im a horse im a horse