paper thin

eunice. xix. istj. and your fingers curled through mine, filled in the negative spaces hidden between | buy my book!

[inkytower]

but if this is the end of the line for us,  for you, as it will never be, for me, then i only have one last wish, and it is this: that you will find someone to love as greatly as i have loved, will love, you.

to my greatest love | (e.l.)

[inkytower]

when i make wishes i close my eyes, pinched penny pressed between my fingers, let it take flight; the arc de triomphe against pale porcelain azure, hear it clink! the bells ringing at twilight- sinking with the softness of a lover’s kiss, inhale with the words i wished to say, exhale with the words i say instead, open my eyes & watch the copper glint in the soft sunlight, heavy with promise.

Inkstay prompt #274; something like a prayer | (e.l.)

[inkytower]

last night i tasted god on my tongue, slow & sticky sweet, touched, with golden fingers & whispers in my ear sacrilege of the highest order. oh! that crimson blush stained dark on peach kissed cheeks, yearning dripping languidly along notched spines & collarbone crevices. last night i traced your bronzed skin, & smiled, & wanted.

Inkstay prompt #140; craving (e.l.)

[inkytower]

i don’t believe in religion, but baby, when your fingers tangled in mine and your wings unfurled from your back i believed in you

Inkstay prompt #10; fool’s hope

[inkytower]

i don’t want to know what unhurting is because part of me will always ache when i think of you, part of me will always crumble when i touch you, part of me, will always love you, and perhaps that is what hurts the most.

Inkstay prompt #257; left unsaid | (e.l.)

[inkytower]

i. you are twenty when you first step onto that stage- you had been on similar ones before, seen the crowds, danced with others, but this was the first time you had something to call your own. you are twenty, and there’s hair covering your eyes and you’re nearly struck speechless when the audience screams for you, and you tell yourself to never forget this moment, because you will never feel this way again.

ii. you are twenty-two when they leave, and it breaks your heart but you can’t let them see, can’t let anyone see, and you hide it away and pretend everything’s okay, because you have to be strong now, have to be strong for everyone else, for your brothers. you try your best to ignore the pain, ignore the way your heart fractures when you see their empty beds, hear their names, and you pour that pain into late nights staring at the computer and picking out notes on the keyboard in front of you.

iii. you are twenty-three when your waist injury from your trainee days comes back but you are busy and you have plans and dreams and you don’t have time for something like an injury and you think you can push through it, the same way you pushed through it before, but this time, it’s too much and you collapse. you wonder why something you love this much seems to keep taking and taking and taking from you.  

iv. you are twenty-four when you burst into tears onstage because all of a sudden it’s too much, there are so many things you want to do, so many things you need to prove, and not nearly enough time to do them. you blame your body for not meeting your expectations, and you push yourself harder, to work harder, because you’ve learned that perseverance and your own effort are all you can rely on. you hide your face because you don’t want others to see your anguish, and you pretend it’s okay.

v. you are twenty-five when they tell you that you’re no longer allowed to perform with your brothers, and you want to scream, and scream, and scream at the universe, scream until you run out of air in your body and it collapses into itself, crumbles into dust, broken. you spend nights sleepless, staring up at the ceiling, and it’s maddeningly quiet, and your thoughts chase each other round, and round, and round.

vi. you are twenty-seven, still tender and humble, and you’ve torn your heart in pieces, embedded it into each of your songs, pulled strings of melody from air and breathed life into them with the stardust in your lungs. you smile, sweet, and you no longer have to pretend to be happy- though you are still soft-skinned, you know the taste of pain, know what it’s like to suffer. you have walked through the inferno and come back, unsinged.

- and this is how it begins, star boy | (e.l.)

[inkytower]

two a.m. & you are a study in moonlight, halo formed of stardust, the kind of ephemeral sweet that melts in your mouth like spun sugar on your tongue. six p.m. & you are crushed velvet, wings unfurled, tucked neatly across strong arms that have known the weight of the world. seven a.m. & you are a cadenza, waltzing along to the music, the wondrous rhythm of your flesh and blood, the cadence of your heart. eleven p.m. & you are a quiet smile, softly sent in the dark, & it is small & secret & ours.

angel’s love song | (e.l.)

[inkytower]

define: ache

the bruising in your bones, the quiet pain you hold so close to your heart,

the fragility of movement and the gentle way it tears you apart.

- short answer #1 | (e.l.)

[inkytower]

it begins like this; he tells you he loves you, and god, you swear you’ve never felt this way before but you know- he is all rough edges but you tear him inside out pull at the soft flesh until he unravels then winds back around you a cocoon, a metamorphosis, and you wonder if you will change when you emerge, bursting- it ends like this; you consume him, devouring and you tell him you love him, you swear it, but you no longer know what love means.

Inkstay prompt #275; once upon a time | (e.l.)

[inkytower]

you are seventeen and you think you can crack the world open with the soft flesh of your hands, think you can scoop the meat from the earth and bring it to your lips, suck out the blood, the gristle, the marrow, and you are hungry. you are seventeen and you think you are a conqueror, a warrior blind to mortality, teeth bared, and there is nothing tender about you. you are seventeen, dripping with arrogance and unspoken promises, and you are raw, and wild, and dangerous.

the year i went to war | (e.l.)

[inkytower]

look: you, the mark you left on my neck the last time your arms cradled shoulders eroded from fingerprints look: you, hazy in the twilight, shadows sloping beneath eyes rimmed with nostalgia look: you, the hair that falls over skin too soft for the pricks of war look: you, glorious in the sun, fresh-faced & damning, conquest thrumming like the blood beneath your skin look: you, you, you.

words Patroclus never said to Achilles | (e.l.) 

[inkytower]

they are a study in scarlet blush red in the haze of early morning sun idly, she wonders, wonders how decay & death & ruin look on a girl like her, a girl with no name, wonders how she sleeps with eyes open & not sewn shut, wonders why she still feels when she is dead.

Inkstay prompt #186; flowers that grow in dead bodies | (e.l.)

[inkytower]

and still, I wonder when our names will stop tasting like a tragedy in my mouth

excerpt from to fall in love | buy my book! (e.l.)

[inkytower]

complicated love:

first draft, 74k/? complete.

riley and jade have always been best friends, but when jade starts dating riley’s ex-boyfriend, colton, feelings get hurt, relationships are torn, and jade and riley learn what love truly means.

[inkytower]

zusammen:

first draft. 5k/? complete.

carter xu. lyra chen. thomas lin. they've been bitter piano rivals since they can remember, each on the brink of stardom, but when lyra, thomas, and carter uncover a secret about carter's family, everything they thought they knew begins to unravel, and they realize that perhaps the three of them aren't so different after all.

[inkytower]

there’s a hole, square in the middle of my chest is it an entrance wound, or an exit, i can’t remember which; funny, though how they look the same.

was it real for you? | (e.l.)

[inkytower]

you broke your teeth, for the bone of my lies and bled, for the marrow of my truths.

Inkstay prompt #475; cruelty at its finest | (e.l.)