From The Sphinx without a Secret by Oscar Wilde (1887).
YOU ARE THE REASON
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@deaththroned
From The Sphinx without a Secret by Oscar Wilde (1887).
strangehungersâ:
he used to think himself above the bashful nuances of love , the noteworthy romantics that settled upon tales meant for those with soft hands and rogue hearts. she proved him wrong so fast that he could hardly remember who he had been before , and he would never complain of it. in many ways , she had saved him. in many ways , she had made it all worthwhile.
â  you should be assured that i will always be here when you do. where else would i be ? â every moment spent without her is a moment spent waiting to be with her again , and he grows less ashamed and concerned by the day about what anyone might think. he leans into her touch , eyes softening at her will as he gazes at her. no one could ever do to him what she has done to him. no one could even come close.
â it feel it to my core , when you are missing from me. and i want for nothing but your return.  â and he knows he would wait forever if need be , but that rabid hunger he carries around ensures that it never escalates to such extents. but as if to remind them both how it will always end , he winds his arms around her and turns his head to kiss her palm. â you are my home. â
it  didnât  take  long  for  her  to  accept  that  he  was  the  vessel  that  fiercely  beat  to  keep  her  going, the  reason  for  the  rise  of  her  lips-  everything  she  ever  wanted  in  love. living  with  the  sight  of  other  lovers  showing  such  before  her  without  one  by  her  side  until  he  became  that  prominent  being.
â do  you  promise?  promise  to  always  be  here  when  i  return? â  such  a  silly  thing  to  ask, everyday  was  not  promised ... even  for  a  god. the  thought  of  him  no  longer  by  her  side  terrified  her  to  the  core, tighter  she  grasped  him  in  hopes  that  he  shall  never  slip  through  her  fingers.
â I swear i just might love you forever, set. â his  words  send  chills  down  her  spine, a  moment  to  catch  her  breath,  she  needed.  thatâs  what  he  did  to  her- even  the  sound  of  his  name  has  her  eyes  wide  &  ears  ready  for  the  possible  sound  of  him  speaking.  the  feel  of  his  lips  confirming  every  bit  of  all  she  had  ever  thought  and  said.  â the  sun  has  set  before  our  eyes, must  we  leave? â eyes  scavenge  the  once  lit  area.
đŽđ°đđ đđŸ đđŽđđ; đđŽđđ đđŸ đŽđ°đđ. ă đ·Â / â ă
love jones (1997)
â Poetry Starters â
The following starters, have been taken from the poetry book Depression & Other Magic Tricks by Sabrina Benaim. TWs include: depression, anxiety. Please be cautious.
my body is a garden rooted in gratitude
my heart is a messy bedroom i always distract myself from cleaning
iâve got this violent tendency to see a bubble and want to pop it
have you ever felt the ache of swallowing starlight?
iâm allergic to liars, they cause my tongue to swell and sharpen
my kiss tastes like a shotgun to the lips
do you ever sit on the end of your bed and listen to the world spin?
i hear the song everywhere.
i am best prepared for the worst case scenario.
you are a ghost & i talk to myself
iâm sorry itâs so dark in here
why am i banging my head against a brick wall?
there is no sleep for this lonely
my depression is a shape shifter
i call the bad days, dark days
iâm not afraid of the dark
perhaps that is part of the problem
anxiety holds me hostage inside of my house, inside of my head
where did the anxiety come from?
insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company
try counting sheep
happy is a decision
i am afraid of living
i will never truly know everywhere i have been
my heart has developed a kind of amnesia where it remembers everything but itself
itâs weirdâŠ. how a jacket can be more reliable than a father.
armor is for women who have something to lose
there are nights my smile is the simple act of baring my teeth
i am just like my father
when the full moon howls, i howl back
i am at the grocery store because i feel sad.
nobody is in love with me but everybody loves me
crying gives me a headache.
headaches make me want to crawl into bed.
crawling into bed is what sad people do.
at the grocery store, at least nobody knows there is nobody in love with me.
is it that you are forgetful or sadistic?
there is a stillness now.
iâm sorry it took me so long to get here.
i hope iâm not too late for the party.
there is not enough time.
i like how looking at you makes me feel.
i love you. still.
iâm not sorry.
i miss you, but i donât wish you were here.
you wear sweat shorts & i still want to fuck you.
if you came back, i would not ask why.
you may say none of this ever happened.
between my orgasms i try not to cry
iâm just trying to be less predictable.
i donât know how to connect in a world like this.
i just want to be free
is time a sleeping language?
the fantastic devastation of unwanted silence.
i went looking for our bridge to burn.
there is a condition called rapture of the deep. it occurs when a deep sea diver spends too much time at the bottom of the ocean & cannot tell which way is up.
i saw you looking back.
the echo is what drives girls like me, mad with remembering.
our brains remember the infliction of pain, be it physical, psychological, or emotional. we remember this hurt as a means to avoid it in the future.
i remember the shape my hand held while in yours.
i wish i could forget how i got here.
in silence, itâs hard to tell what the other person is thinking without looking them in the eyes.
you would not look me in the eyes.
i have been practicing forgetting.
we cannot control what we remember, but we can control how we remember.
i think iâll prefer you a stranger someday.
is it just easier to look at yourself in the mirror is you are not human?
does that make it easier to pretend you donât have depression; because depression is exclusively human.
this is not about you.
every felling i have swallowed.
i was too anxious to leave.
how did you do that thing that you did to my heart?
her fists are filled with the laughter of ghosts.
holding love makes the girl feel helpless.
did you hear me? i said i love you.
i said i still love you.
the refusal of offered love is some kind of death.
you are unassuming music
i want to wear him
there are ghosts in every version of this story
there is no mystery there
i am just happy to know you
i am not alone
ââŠthe moon is queen of everything. she rules the oceans, rivers, rain. when i am asked whose tears these are i always blame the moon.â
â  Lucille Clifton; moonchild (via fvrmamentvs)
Cancer
(via shadio)
Childish Gambino || Me and Your Mama ||Â âAwaken, My Love!â
One shall bring two women with  BEAUTIFUL BODIES.  they shall be made to sit on the ground at the main portal of the  Hall of Appearings. On their arms shall be written the names of  ISIS  and  NEPHTHYS.  / by aja & ashanti.
Where is Aja?
Isis Onyx. @creolejesus. active. original character.
Asra Rajani Jackson. @deaththronedâ. low activity. original character.
Juliet Capulet. @vrnasun . active. headcanon & Romeo + Juliet based.
why does no one worship the moon anymore? feel like thats a mistake. its pretty big i think. bigger than all of us.
clermont twins
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whiphellâ:
King like & calm, he sat in the chair and simply watched. For a while, he said nothing, merely looking at the other in mild confusion. He rose a hand and placed it to his chin, furrowing his painted brow. âđđšđźâŠ đ°đĄđš đšđ« đ°đĄđđ đđ«đ đČđšđź? đđšđź đ„đšđšđ€ đĄđźđŠđđ§ đđ§đšđźđ đĄ, đđźđ đČđšđź đđšđ§'đ đ đđđ đĄđźđŠđđ§. đđĄđđ đđ«đ đČđšđź?â
during events like these she made it a habit to make her rounds to those who were in attendance, something she had been doing all night until she heard another call out to her. â I am Azra ... and  you are asking far too many questions.â this isnât her first run in with a being whom could detect her divinity but it was fun to keep them guessing a bit longer.
strangehungersâ:
â yes ? â the sound of his name on her lips begins a drumming in his gut , the darkening sky reflecting the shade of his irises. his mischief , always on display and never hidden from her gaze , twinkles in his eyes. she is the only one who lays witness to this face , seeing him at his most vulnerable , soft and without scrutiny poised like poison on his tongue. some would say she is lucky. he himself would say he is.Â
glancing around them , he finds them alone in the utmost solitude , the silence soothing as it folds into his back. along with her hands. he leans into her , his breathing soft as though he fears disturbing the calm. he inhales her nonetheless , and one would think he hadnât seen her in ages even then in that moment. he likes to cherish every second offered to him with her. he would settle for nothing less.Â
â do you think of me , often ? when we are not together ? â he need not ask , but the words will stroke his ego , which will in turn stoke the flames in his belly. fingers trace along her spine to the back of her neck , gentle and unassuming. â what goes through your head then ? â
â yes... â humble in her tone, she wanted to reassure him though she knew he didnât need it. â I love times like this with you, always.â she loved hard , it was almost too obvious. even to herself. perhaps it was too much in the eyes of others around. whispers of the constant eye contact whenever one entered the same room as the other and private, intimate times like this. nevertheless it seemed meant to be.
does she think of him? will the sun rise another day? it was almost a silly question. this was just another opportunity for her to speak of her love for him. she couldnât help but to chuckle as she looked him in his face. a face she couldnât get enough of.Â
â i find myself thinking of you often more than less...â chills finding their  way throughout her whole being in reaction to his touch. her grin drops  but her eyes never leave his. he knew what he did to her but she  enjoyed vocalizing it. â when i lay alone i think of your arms holding me  close, such a firm yet gentle way that you do so... i cannot see myself  getting used to another. the warmth of your being beside me, the way  we converse ...â a single hand now placed on his jaw, one of her favorite  features on his face. â what goes through my head is ... âi cannot wait to  return to the man i loveâ hoping you will be there when i do..â
Rihanna at the Fenty Pop Up in NY photographed by Nico Kartel. (June 18)
â„   đđđđđđđđđ  đđđđđđđ  đ đđđ  đđđđđđđđđ  .
a list of my favorite one - liners from the website pinterest . feel free to customize as you wish !
â” perhaps iâll write a book of great shit iâve done nobodyâs ever noticed. âČ â” as god as my witness, i will never be a victim again.  âČ â” iâm becoming less interesting. the world is noticing and so are you.  âČ â” you are such a soft and messy thing. nobody knows how to take care of you. âČ â” with each passing day i can feel my potential melting away into nothing.  âČ â” everyone thinks iâve gotten better. i havenât. iâve just gotten better at hiding it.  âČ â” i havenât felt real in a long time.  âČ â” i told my therapist about you.  âČ â” and iâm plagued by childhood traumas. âČ â” you donât need a reason to save people.  âČ â” and here you are living despite it all.  âČ â” i can do this . and even if i canât , i have to.  âČ â” iâm afraid of what iâve become.  âČ â” iâll do this my way.  âČ â” youâll be just like your father.  âČ â” i wanted to write down exactly what i felt but somehow the paper stayed empty. i could not have described it any better. âČ â” sometimes i have a way with words  â sometimes words have their way with me. âČ â” some days, i feel everything at once. other days, i feel nothing at all. i donât know whatâs worse; drowning beneath waves or dying from the thirst.  âČ â” donât promise to live forever, promise to forever live while youâre alive.  âČ â” you wear the kind of smile that would be cruel not to kiss.  âČ â” in your hesitation i found my answer. âČ â” thinking of you is a poison i drink often.  âČ â” flowers will grow from by bones. âČ â” if i can still breathe, iâm fine. âČ â” you already know how this will end.  âČ â” who am i? âČ â” i fought the war but the war won.  âČ â” weâll never be those kids again. âČ â” they made you into a weapon and told you to find peace.  âČ â” they know you walk like a god â they canât believe i made you weak. âČ â” a scar means i survived.  âČ â” i was not made to be subtle.  âČ â” my purpose is greater than my pain.  âČ â” you will not choke the divine from me. i am my own god and martyr.  âČ