Angelkin are amazing I love your posts you all give me life oh my god never change your dorky ethereal selves
trying on a metaphor

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
One Nice Bug Per Day

JBB: An Artblog!
Sweet Seals For You, Always

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wallacepolsom

@theartofmadeline
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Origami Around
Cosmic Funnies
styofa doing anything

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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
AnasAbdin
todays bird

Kiana Khansmith

if i look back, i am lost

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
seen from Sweden
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from Brazil
seen from Malaysia
seen from Finland

seen from Australia
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from Australia
seen from Azerbaijan

seen from United States
seen from Czechia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
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@explodingnebulaes
Angelkin are amazing I love your posts you all give me life oh my god never change your dorky ethereal selves
For a fallen angel with themes of anxiety, self-hatred, and the night sky, in neon blues, golds, and blacks!
~Mod Asteroid
This is just an amazing capture.
One time I asked a friend, “Did you know that I’m an angel?”
The friend gained a thoughtful look on her face and replied, “Yes - isn’t that obvious?”
hi how are you? may i just say that your aesthetics are the most pleasing ones i've seen on here? i can't recall sending you something but if i were to, would you be alright with divines?
I’m good!! i’m glad you enjoy them that makes me happy! I’d love if you sent me something that would be great, so feel free to!
June 14 | happy hour
i. they publish my poem about heaven. it is cherry red and they adore it.
ii. but didn’t I write about blood? didn’t I write pain, rooms never to be opened, losing teeth?
iii. i am still becoming. this is my mantra, to remember when i dream of blood and feel the rot in my lungs. i am becoming. i am becoming. i am becoming.
iv. dead gospel leaks from my headphones. sometimes, all you can do is scratch at those scars and move on.
I pull my scarred hands from the dirt and oh // how they sigh. they don’t see my muscle, all that meat. oh // they sigh, oh what talent. I wish I could be like you. // and my, my red blood cells quiver with rage. // do you see this? they see that I have scars and they cry, oh, talented soul! // it makes my veins shrink, my ears shrivel. // don’t you see? don’t you understand? talent is a lie. // there is no such thing. // I made these scars. I carved them one by one, slowly, dragging them through the dirt. // when I was little I was no different from another. // but now that I have this, these delicious scars and lean muscles // you are all too happy to say I did not make them. to say that I was born with ability and knowledge. // I was not born with scars, I did not emerge from the dirt already a creator. // no one put the blade in my hand, no one pulled me through the rain and the muck // but myself
Angel without wings // wings without Angel
i.
Holy water burned my skin. Scripture tasted foreign on my tongue, Like lies and ashes and cemetery dirt. Sunday was my least favorite day.
ii.
I turned my palms to god a thousand Times under a thousand skies. She still died. He still left a graveyard between my thighs.
iii.
People think angels are pure. But we burn, and are burned by, Everything we touch.
Keep your distance.
Swallow the stars; Let them seep into your very being.
Love the angel with supernova bruises running down their ribcage. Hold them carefully and do not let go.
Have I Told You About The Time That I Lived In The Clouds?: A Moodboard
Telegraph on the wing.