Pleaseimastar333

"If you grabbed a blade and cut me open, I'm sure you would see absolutely nothing."

[imastar-333]

Summer is a bit scandalous, like honey dipped cherry, a clandestine lover, or perhaps a blooming purple constellation dancing on collarbones in ecstasy. Summer is the fleeting sorrow the followed me till July, touching my tongue with a fuzzy feeling of being alive, melancholy muraling iridescent clouds, dripping apricot ice cream playing with your lips, whispering an infamous affair between mountain and the ocean, sweet scent of almond moisturizer flirting with the salt air, Orchid's longing for honeyed kiss, there's a forbidden desire to have you all over me, summer is the dried sunflower in my forbidden journal, polaroid of my high school girls laughing in the sun. Summer kisses my hair and makes me a maddening phantom all over again. Summer is a memoir to young love, A memoir of us.

[imastar-333]

You built this cage. Lost color in my face. You're "fair" and I'm insane. Hallucination, shame, guilt, pain, more pain.

[imastar-333]

We Were There (Said the Lilies)

We were there

when the lion first came down the hill, mane heavy with dust and rage, jaw wet from things best left unnamed.

He did not look at us.

He looked only for the lamb.

She was already waiting- small, still, and glowing like something unkillable.

He snarled. She didn't flinch. He circled. She didn't run.

We knew then: this was not love.

Not yet.

But something older, something bound by ache.

They met in the field where bones sleep beneath our root. Where silence is thick, and the wind never sings.

We watched.

Because we always do.

The lion tried to scare her. He roared, bared his teeth, spoke of wars he carried in his ribs. She listens. And said nothing.

But her silence cracked him- not like blow, but like mercy does.

That quiet, that unforgiving calm only the lamb could hold.

Seasons passed. His claws dulled. Her eyes sharpened.

They didn't become each other-

no.

That's a lie humans like to tell. But they learned to exist in the same stillness.

The lion pacing. The lamb breathing. The lilies blooming.

He loved her fiercely. She loved him gently.

It was enough.

Until it wasn't.

The storm came- it always does. They tore at each other with the same love they once shared.

She said, "You only know how to take."

He said, "You only know how to leave."

And then she was gone, the lion didn't roar.

He didn't hunt.

He just laid down in the lilies, and wept.

We remember.

We always will.

we drank her tears.

We cradled his grief.

And every single spring, we rise again white as the lies they told themselves and soft as the truth they couldn't say.

We were not a peace.

Were are not innocence.

We are what's left when both the lion and the lamb are gone.

-r.m

[imastar-333]

The Garden of Her.

He was called Leon.

Not for the name, But for the way he entered a room- like he owned the end of it. Fire in his mouth. Blood on his tongue. People didn't speak to him, they survived him.

She was called Liliana.

A name too soft for the war she carried in her bones. She lived alone in a field of lilies, each bloom a promise she never made. People came to her for healing- but never stayed. They were scared of how quiet she was. Of how much she saw.

He met her in early spring. Dragging one leg, limping from a battle he wouldn't name. She didn't ask. She just pointed and said, "Sit. Bleed. the lilies will drink what you waste."

He stayed.

Because even beasts get tired. And her silene didn't feel like fear- it felt like knowing.

He tried to scare her once. Bared his teeth. Spoke of all the things he'd broken. She only tilted her head. "Then break me," he said. "But you'll have to stay to watch me bloom again."

He never touched her like that. Not then. Instead, he brought her dead things- birds, rumors, truths. She planted them all. Lilies grew brighter.

Some nights, he raged. Claws in words, a storm in skin. She let him. "Let the lion tear," she whispered. "It'll be nothing in the morning."

He hated her for that. Loved her harder

One winter, she fell ill

Not the dramatic kind- just faded. The lilies turned grey. They Sky forgot how to weep. And he- he knelt beside her like the lamb never thought he'd be.

"Why are you still here?" she asked.

"You could burn down cities." "I already did," he answered.

"They just didn't have your name."

She smiled once. He'd never forget that. Even when the snow swallowed her.

Now he walks with a limp through fields that never die. Carries her name like a scar. And every spring, the lilies bloom wild and white- as if they remember the lion and the girl who wasn't afraid.

-r.m

[imastar-333]

she's runnin' out again.

-RadioHead, Creep.

[imastar-333]

Not one word, not one gesture of yours shall I, could I, ever forget.

-Leo Tolstoy

[imastar-333]

She imagines him imagining her.

-Margaret Atwood

[imastar-333]

"Treat me like a fool. Treat me mean and cruel but love'' - Love me, Elvis Presley

[imastar-333]

If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks, then I'll follow you into the dark.

[imastar-333]

These violent delights have violent end And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume.

[imastar-333]

I like to think of your silence as the lover letters you will not write me.

[imastar-333]

Broken down and hungry for your love With no way to feed it.

[imastar-333]

I am a moth who just wants to share your light

[imastar-333]

Well my tears falling down as i try to forget. Her love was a joke from the day that we met.

—Jeff Buckley "Forget Her"

[imastar-333]

I was ready to give it all up—everything. I was half out of my mind with love. And I didn't thing twice about what I was throwing into the fire, as long as I could keep it burning for just another minute—if only i was allowed to sit a while longer beside its pale glow That was how I loved you in the end. With my body cold and shuddering. With empty hands over smoldering ash, counting out the minutes.

—Lang Leav

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Louise Glück, "The Burning Heart"

[justkenz]

@hiindsiight ❤️

[imastar-333]

crawling back to you. ever thought of calling when you've had a few? cause i always do. maybe i'm too, busy being yours to falls for somebody new. now i've thought it through. crawling back to you.