aɪrɪs

[bebemoon]

"The sculpture in the image is “Das Schicksal” (Fate), created in 1905 by Hugo Lederer. The sculpture portrays fate as a ruthless woman dragging two vulnerable bodies by their hair.

The work is currently located in Ohlsdorf Cemetery in Hamburg, Germany."

from @dustseasons on instagram .

[darnalila]

020836 I had a feeling when I met you something twitched beneath my skin turned my eyes towards window panes and the creases beneath your eyes beady-black and button cute blithe and biting unrequited but not quite that but only quiet for twelve years when I told her she said "I'm sorry if that happened to you" now all that non-speaking follows me - I thought I could forgive you without any grovelling but then you dare to intrude on me on new years eve new days in my new life on a new account one without the history of your recognition; ay-yiy-yiy messy (eightfold) you don't know me enough to hate what you've done to me don't regard me enough to do the remembering of who I was of how you left the stove on unlit and let that sweet smell fill up the house of my mind for so long the cascade of "knowing" it was all me; how it fit perfectly like a paper cut between nail plate and bed

[darnalila]

280726

If we ever spoke again I'd tell you that the girl you wrote the version in the scripts based on me never existed

the same way that the version of you who would never make the faux-pas of saying "I've never met anyone like you before" and I felt that wall between us and turned into the sun to warm that cold-beating never existed

the same way that you weren't hanging out for the ultimate option to nuzzle it's way into your neck out of my lips the same way you felt that I pulled out things that weren't there that I was wrong retrospectively to the things that you admitted were right at the time to showing up not out of kindness but to remit your own guilt for implications that you felt were unfair but were there no matter how unaware you were

the same way you'll deny my own self-labelling of 'crazy' and tell me in words so lazy; "adele I think you underestimate the experience I have with people who struggle with this stuff" and you became the painter of a person I told you never existed but you remitted: until I was too crazy that we finally admitted that loathing I had and entitlement to access that I nudged many times around at the edge finally putting in that wedge existed that was up here breathing and beating unlike the "nothing" you wanted from me the one you swore couldn't be in hades if it had never been born; that I was the one solely responsible for you hanging out with catcher's mitts every time I walked in and out of a room

I told you so many times in so many ways and you revealed all the imagined "me"-s every time until that one month when I unravelled into you and you told me that you wished you had known these stories sooner these stories that I had already told you the taglines of; "adele you would have been so popular at my highschool" turned into "adele I just can't imagine someone hating themselves that much" when I told you how I learnt to turn a gaze a glance a conversation into self-preservation a million and one times; the way that the conversation lulled between us when I finally stopped prodding it dead unfinished barely ever existing like those screenplays no one will be missing because they'll never be made

[darnalila]

280726

taken by the hand dragging across that mesh; the future comes rushing in

I think of them messaging that they "love me" notice the lack of like-ing when I go they'll say "what a troubled young woman she was" when I go they'll say how sad but how glad they were for the gaps between us.

I know what is right what is wrong but they don't I know what is right what is wrong but I am that I know I know I die I decay fade away and fertilise his bones

a mind that is not whole some trying to metta-better my softening makes me fold around the knife as though I willed it's penetration

a mind unwinds unkind in line inside well, well went out to find a reason to hide (again)

[darnalila]

060726 i'm calling about the black-pearls black-blue like your i's that - reminder: don't even belong to you you should be so grateful Eye was once as beautiful as you - why don't you call him? it could be good fun; you were always so playful you were good fun you're feeling bruised? feeling black-blue? i understand, Eye understand; i understand you i was in your spot ten years before you (were now) yes; twenty two - oh now? where was I at your age? pulling floor boards with a man that loved me and income for those children to come that I love; and to prove it i'll call and call appalled at how you've mauled your skin with black-blue ink and may-day pictures gibb-ing alive at the bottom of an ocean black-blue - why don't you call him? your other kin? the other one that I've already forgotten; about how he used you as a stepping stone of his esteem barbed twice with the knowing that you won't worth reprieving and left now in skin blue-black that kin - blue-white blue-black you were hard work such hard work my darling there was always something but you were always such good fun when you weren't so black-blue

[darnalila]

300626 how's things? gay memes post-ding's exhaustion and exhaustion and ghosted messages my third leg sings singes winges and tonight; she has wings

[kisxmesoft]

[rivka-kopelman]

[titsay]

guardian of the forest

[darnalila]

hey neil if I were going to reply to you at any point I would have done it before now because now if I were to re-engage with you, I'd just be encouraging you to continue boundaryless behaviour - you have continued to contact a woman who has ceased engaging with you at all after you found this tumblr and speculated that some of these poems were about you, even though I specifically told you that you're not a romantic interest both directly and indirectly.

If you're reading this then you're still trying to engage in some kind of way where you enjoy intimacy with me and I'm not interested in returning to a habit where I repeat myself. I don't need to. I'm aware these poems are public and anyone can view them but you know what you're doing.

I'll see ya round the centre if we run in to each other and would be down to have a chat, but fr. This has happened to be before, I'm not interested. chill dude.

[nigelgraz]

40 min study

[darnalila]

070426

it's not a blessing and it's not a curse; it's something whispered brightly shining hope, defying something worse - between a rock a hard place the pause between each verse pandora's final blessing that searing curse; I will fall

[darnalila]

180226

I spoke to my God and she gets it she's a thing different to the self that tells me good from bad: she tells me where the white line the white lie resides that I can take for the definitive "goodness" of things now she and I have been talking she speaks in each ear she tells me to take all I need - that she supplies in abundance as long as I hold my arms out to receive - I spoke to my God; she told me that this would work out and now that it's not she's told me that I am allowed I am allowed I am allowed! to have fun tell me of your anxiety with facilitating my needs for control and safety and the right stimulation and how it comes in waves when I violate those rules I set for my own safety the ones I gently remind you (oh forgetful darling) because I am filled with God's love and I have compassion for you my love, being imperfect tell me how it feels when I push beyond my limits and beyond our agreements and then I know in the step too far that I am already halfway out of the room and you are alone and the tone has changed; let me remind you: that my God says yes to fun! - I spoke to my God she never lies to me even though she led me here to you and I'm planning on leaving I had no intention of telling you until I was stepping through thresholds because of my needs you know? things slow down time slows down because I have all of these needs and you have needs too I see you at night numbing them out and with my loving I hold my judgement I call it discernment I wish you would let my God hold you because she belongs to me but she can belong to you because having that clinging is all that goodness as opposed to that badness of the world and that's what being alive is to be good to be saved after all: who would choose to be lost? - I spoke to God's son today after you told me they're saying there's only 13 years left of clean drinking water in city centres and he told me that he's coming back to save me it's such a shame y'all aren't friends.

[darnalila]

081225 gone a little far this time if only it were a something worth the weight inside pulling down my eyes till I'm reduced down once again to nothing - he smiles (like a secret) he knows i'll never keep it far too brash to be bequeathed anything that's meaningful but something worth make-believing - three poems down but I'm not the sentimental one "dangerously fine" she's unforgiving that's the line? "just my type" as though I were something to be repeated - a fantastic mind make-believing all the time all deceiving all repeating a warm body around mine holding down the line until once again there am I dizzy on kitchen tiles; mother - I'm bleeding mother, may I cry?

[darnalila]

151025

"You remember me so clearly from back then" (why do memories glow the way real moments don't?) I'm not surprised that you remember me less sweetheart but when you told me how you balanced your Anahata with that little girl after your death-dive with that scene you painted for me: the man of the hour turned on, antagonised prompting your turning in to authenticity from your imagined hurt now turned real and mine made of my memory of the muschiness of knowing you; leaking out of me of that house and the hubris of hurling myself at anything that came at me I could feel all that hoping I had. - You told me you love telling people that story the one where humming with hash we traced our father's histories back to the first edition: our blood meeting decades before as though cause-and-effect (or whatever particular semantic suits you best, sir) could give us a little cheek years ago I would have taken that as evidence of anything at all. - You told me you found peace I told you "me too" (laughing off that Portugal pervert) and how I dissociated under fluorescent lights and weekly specials as your plaything: a story you couldn't remember how you gaslit me to save yourself: a story you couldn't remember the times I covered for you: stories you'll never remember how I wanted you heart out and thought you felt the same; you told me that I didn't imagine anything at all but that you were scared and didn't know any better than to enjoy the affection attention of someone who adored you. - Pretty baby, was so insecure and kept me even after he turned cold now we're old and he talks of a knowing of an owing a recognition that is not-quite; his non-apology sits between us "I was so young, I didn't know any better" his youth marked mine unacknowledged unrepenting only ending in my self-mending. "Of course I wanted to be your friend" as though love were a feeling and not an action; the boys will be boys the girls will be worse (learned on into womanhood) - Home-making me and the misters taking what they want: my affection my attention my adoration discarding what they don't (the girl of it all) do you know how many times they asked me, if I still loved you? if I hated her? Did you know, that you were the first one? that you set the playbook? (Can you imagine how helpful for him?) the original sin breaking down a 'sure thing' into a broken-bet now ticking on for twelve years of tersely undermining myself because one day: they could change like the cold-snap of you. - Lavender under my pillow and in my mind; oracle macedon told me that I would regret you some day (I should have bought that stock)

[brandonlees]

THE PRINCESS BRIDE 1987, dir. Rob Reiner

[funeral]

Franny Choi, Soft Science