ami🩰

love me down to the marrow ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 18

[charminluck]

i ♡ @decaying-angel1 (i love ami)

[decaying-angel1]

:p (i love soso)

[dim-stvrlight]

🩶 @decaying-angel1 🩶

———————————————————————

“I wish he loved me like that” I say to myself after every turning of every page of every love story I’ve ever read. Love is a fickle thing, ever changing and never lasting, so it’s no shock to realise the truth behind these words, But really, humans are all the same. There is never a moment in every passing day where I don’t stop to wonder how it would feel to be truly loved. I can never claim to know what true love is as I’ve never experienced it, not with my father nor my partner, but if it exists I would only hope that the people who have found it are deserving of that love. I wish to be known, I wish to be heard, I wish to be understood. I wish for a man who will respect my mind and my body, I wish for someone who will uplift me when I’m down but never put me down when I’m uplifted. But true love is too much to ask for in this cruel and unforgiving life. With false faces and identities breaking you down until you’re a shell of your former self; perfectly suited to their tastes and no longer the cause of a bitter taste in their mouth.

[decaying-angel1]

tangle your hands in my intestines,

rip away at my flesh snap my ribs into pieces,

play with the strings of my tissue

let the deep red soak your skin

take all of me,

all the way down to the bone.

graze your teeth on my marrow,

suck my blood and smile at the taste.

watch as my heart swells and stills,

hold it in your hand and feel it beating your name.

watch as i rise and fall into your warm embrace,

swallow my soul and exhale my breath.

pour me into your body,

together,

we can live in tranquil.

@tojiisadilf @breathinlove

[dim-stvrlight]

☁️ @decaying-angel1 ☁️

They say to be loved is to be known, but what is there to do when one feels neither loved nor known. When one tries their hardest to understand and accept someone for who they are, just to be met with a blank wall in place of their affections and left with a heart that bleeds forevermore. Love is not true. Love is a lie that is found in the writings of poets and authors who themselves long to be known, long to be understood. From a young age I was taught that love came in the form of aggression and violence, that love came from fathers with little girls that suffer by harsh words and false truths. Now, as I grow older, I realise that love comes in the form of hurt and suffering, that fathers with little girls can never truly love, can never truly see them. Love is a false hope that is taught by those who long for someone to know them and who they truly are. Love lies, it lies and afflicts hurt and hatred onto those that can only hope to be loved and to be seen for who they are and not who they appear to be.