In The Gardens of Lillith

31//female//lost in the spines of romance novels

[inthegardensoflillith]

Terra Dea

I do not want to be courted or woo’d,

Softly taken with a kiss in a flower garden,

I want to be kissed like the world is ending,

A meeting of lips colliding and igniting fire and Blistered horizons,

I do not want to make love but to be devoured,

To have your teeth leaving bites of passion like puzzle pieces,

Strewn a long my skin yet fitting us together in this lovely chaos,

I do not want to be easy to love,

I want to be feared,

I want to be emblazoned with the fertility to give life like a spring rain,

But with the raging power of a monsoon overflowing riverbanks and soaking the earth,

I want my voice to shake mountains as it softly calls your name,

And brings mankind to its knees.

[inthegardensoflillith]

The year I was birthed, Earth opened like a zipper, Waking beasts below

“1989″ a Haiku (via @inthegardensoflillith)

[inthegardensoflillith]

Inside of You Is a House of Dead Things

‘‘ Inside of you is a house of dead things, no room for a living, breathing soul to dwell in, just the buried memories etching an epitaph on the concrete of your heart. I was never meant to inhabit that place, and I close the door on the tomb of your callousness. Will you always dance with ghosts? Will you ever free yourself from that sadness that entwines and immobilizes you like a fish caught in the pull of a net?’’

[inthegardensoflillith]

I want to pay homage to her form, Her thighs, my pews, full of grace, I kneel between them as they offer me redemption, Receiving the sacrament of holy rivers, A forbidden fruit, ripe with her nectars, I receive her flesh

excerpt from “In the Gardens of Lillith” via  @inthegardensoflillith

[metaphorformetaphor]

“After that I stepped so far back no one could get near me.”

—

Michael Ondaatje, from The English Patient (McClelland & Stewart, 2006)

[sixpenceeeaesthetic]

[inthegardensoflillith]

“He asks me if I’ve ever written poetry about him. He reads about the passion and longing I scribe into my journal with the hopes some of that longing is reserved for him. I haven’t the heart to tell him he knows nothing of what my heart is really capable of. That my journals house ghosts, feelings long gone like a ship sailing into the horizon. Weatherbeaten and ancient, barnacles attached and salt ravaged from neglect. That those emotions are like distant stars, beautiful in sight but just the echo of a dead planet reverberated across a never ending darkness. I want to so badly… let myself fall into the space where my heart allows me to feel the kind of love I write about…”

[thcartierrug]

@domsli22

[inthegardensoflillith]

𝑨𝒍𝒕𝒂𝑳𝒖𝒏𝒆 ✨🌙

The moon keeps vigil over my bed,

Stained now with my tears and your whispered name,

It dissipates into the night air, those lover’s prayers softly fleeing,

Hoping to catch the wind and find their way to you,

Like kites slicing the indigo sky, flying amongst the stars,

The only solace I have now in this empty bed,

Is maybe, just maybe you are watching the same moon,

That it casts it light upon your skin and you think of my touch,

See the darkness of the night sky and think of the desire burning embers in my eyes,

And you’d pray just as fervently as I have,

To not only walk in each other’s dreams,

But to follow The Northern star back to the arms we call home,

Cross the expanses of galaxies,

A celestial dance,

As the planets celebrate my answered prayers,

And bring you to me with the rise of the sun.

[kvothes]

on the first day of class my astronomy professor asked us why the night sky was dark. if our universe is infinite, how can there be spaces between the stars? he didn’t answer the question until the last day– because our universe is relatively young, and is still growing. it is finite. not enough stars or galaxies have been formed to fill up the entire night sky.

but what that means to me is that somewhere, in an older universe, the night sky looks like a tapestry of diamonds. somewhere darkness is pale white and glittering. imagine being so surrounded. i haven’t gotten that image out of my head ever since– you could never navigate under such a sky but god it sounds lovely

[bourgwesioie]

“Love isn’t soft, like those poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close.”

Stephen King

[teaspirationss]

I fall asleep and my mind gives itself to you like the way the night curls around the moon. You place poetry at the tip of my tongue, only to steal it away with one kiss, and I’m left wordless—breathless, gasping for life. I have no desire for anything that isn’t you.

[stevenluce]

I hate my life

I hate my family

I hate fake feelings

‘You’re not allowed to cry!’

‘Literally, we physically made it impossible for you to cry’

I hate my friends

Or at the very least the people who won’t talk to me who tell themselves they’re my friends

‘Your medication works only when we want it to’

‘Oh shit, you may want to stop, people take him seriously’

Oh shit

You may want to stop

Shredding his flesh

It happened

It happened

Perfect timing

You’re all liars

Please leave me alone

Please leave me alone

Every single one of you

Please leave me alone

[inthegardensoflillith]

I feel this poem in my soul

[heartofmuse]

While you walk alone make sure you grow beautiful things in your soul and keep them there, a secret garden of precious treasures, until the one comes who will delight in them when they also share their own precious soul with you. 

e.v.e.

[compulsive]

[pagesofthemoon]

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

— Sarah Williams, The Old Astronomer

[michaelbogild-deactivated202503]

“Once you have identified with some form of negativity, you do not want to let it go, and on a deeply unconscious level, you do not want positive change. It would threaten your identity as a depressed, angry or hard-done by person. You will then ignore, deny or sabotage the positive in your life. This is a common phenomenon. It is also insane.”

— Eckhart Tolle