JinxB

sun ♑ | moon ♎ | rising ♏ | intp my poetry book - https://a.co/d/bXENib2

[jupitersmusings]

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

[overlord-fire-bubble]

THIS ONE FUCKING WORKS. REBLOG IT.

[tiny-kt]

this for real fucking works

[scroll-of-thought]

Apparently this one fuckin works, and who am I to argue with the collective agreement of tumblr. Will report back if good things happen.

[jinxed-poetry]

"There’s something raw, something terribly human, in the act of surrendering to the pull of the universe, to the tides we couldn’t tame."

[jinxed-poetry]

And I think, just briefly, that maybe we never fit because we never tried— never dared to force the stars to whisper a different ending. If we had, we could’ve been the twist no one saw coming. We could’ve rewritten the heavens, we could’ve defied the fate that bound us apart. But you were a coward, and I, a mirror— and stories never favor people like us. The greatest love stories belong to heroes— the ones who tear through fate’s threads with blistered hands and stubborn hearts, who defy the odds with reckless courage. Not to those who follow the stars, meek and afraid, only to watch them burn out in the same quiet ash, in the same inevitable end.

[jinxed-poetry]

Now you are more than the ink I scrawled in letters I never sent, more than the half-formed story I swore I’d leave untold. Because, after all, the greatest loves, the ones that claw at our insides, are remembered, written in blood, spoken like confessions.

[jinxed-poetry]

"Perhaps we always loved the chase, there's sweetness to almost-haves, those tantalizing near-misses, to being the almost lovers."

[jinxed-poetry]

I’ve only ever known love as a locked door, something I had to break down, bloodied fists and split lips, the wreckage of myself scattered at its feet. I had to learn how to shape-shift, to shrink until I disappeared just to fit in someone else’s hands. But with you, it’s different. You are the open door, and I am terrified of stepping through, of what waits on the other side— because I’ve never held anything soft that didn’t turn to dust in my hands.

[jinxed-poetry]

I’m sorry to admit I buried us long before you ever visited our grave, long before the shadows grew teeth and claws. I couldn’t come back to you, not the way I used to. I buried my love for you with our tangled memories, and brought a cross and garlic to keep you from whispering through the soil, saying we were never quite buried, coming back to haunt me like a ghost. I’m sorry I couldn’t say I still love you when your voice cracked and trembled. Sorry I couldn’t be there for you when your demons clawed their way out. But my demons were caged, snarling behind iron bars, and no matter how hard I tried, yours tried to drag me into the abyss with you. So I had to bury it all, shovel the dirt over our history, set it ablaze. I still remember how it burned, a pyre of broken dreams and ashes, leaving nothing but a wasteland behind. We were a forest fire, beautiful and destructive, and now, only charred remains stand where we once bloomed. But please, let our long-buried love rest in peace; do not dig up its bones, do not breathe life into its dust— it's only going to be cursed, a reverent of what once was, haunting the desolate landscape where love once resided.

https://a.co/d/7GrEUJL - my poetry book!

[jinxed-poetry]

I see it now— love, the kind that heals instead of scars, blooms quietly, without needing to be believed. It’s there in the spaces you never touched, in the corners of me that grew despite the weeds. And that’s where I’ll stay, in the soil of my own making, where no thorns dig into my skin.

[jinxed-poetry]

But if you knew the taste of venom, why did you pour it into my veins? I asked, my voice a desperate plea, shattering the fragile silence. Your eyes, once soft as moonlight, now shards of broken promises. I traced the jagged edges of your deceit, my fingertips bleeding truth. "Why?" The word echoed through my bones, a desperate prayer to an absent god. Did you feel the tremors of my trust collapsing, the fault lines of our love fracturing? The stars blinked, indifferent witnesses, as my heart bled ink onto the void. Because I can’t understand how you could do it, when I would have willingly laid down my life for your sins. But now, I am merely a wounded soldier, returning home from a fraternal war that tore at my soul. In the quiet of night, memories echo like distant gunfire, and I wonder if you ever glimpsed the battlefield within me. Did you see the trenches carved by doubt and longing, the barbed wire of unspoken words, and the craters of lost dreams? I carried your secrets like grenades, heavy and ticking, each step a battle against the gravity of my love for you. Yet, you remained unscathed, untouched by the shrapnel of my devotion. And now, as I limp through the aftermath, I realize: I was both the casualty and the medic. binding my wounds with verses and stanzas. So, let the stars continue their silent vigil, and let my heart bleed ink until it runs dry. For in this war of love, I fought valiantly, even when defeat tasted like the bitterest rhyme. - me, "Love's Trenches and Battlefields"

[jinxed-poetry]

In the gallery of my mind, I curate A mosaic of faces, a tapestry of tales, Each a brushstroke of my essence, Indelible, inerasable, eternal. No matter the paths I tread, My mind, a loyal archivist, Preserves every soul's imprint, Every moment's whisper. Others, they shed memories like autumn leaves, Drifting away, a forgotten echo of seasons past. But I, I am a vessel of remembrance, Where every utterance, every silence, Clings to me, a haunting refrain. Life's symphony follows me, A ravenous shadow, a relentless pursuit, Ink-flooded narratives, permanently pressed Into the fibers of my being. Like stubborn stains on pristine linen, The past lingers, an unwelcome guest, Refusing to fade, to dissolve into the ether. Yet, I am aware, memories are but mirages, Nostalgia, a siren's song for a time That perhaps never was, never will be. Still, they are mine, these echoes, A bittersweet chronicle of a life lived, A heart that has loved, a soul that has felt. - me "Stains of Memories" i write poetry now, if anybody cares

[glorious-blackout]

Thank fuck for Norway. This is quality Eurovision!

[anobodysposts]

the space wolves are conquering everywhere!

[anxietyproblem]

[iamsunkissed]

I'm literally bad when it comes to explaining

[injuries-in-dust]

Source: Instagram

[pissbunn]

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[bogleech]

They’re also chordates, like us vertebrates! Their embryos have basically the same anatomy as ours, but the notochord, the part that becomes our spinal column, just remains a notochord until they’re ready to become a jelly bag forever. Then they digest the notochord as well as their own brain because they won’t need either of them.

[totallynotagentphilcoulson]

So fucking jealous right now these little bastards get to just live their best life meanwhile I gotta drive 40 miles to work each morning and pay taxes

[melodyofthevoid]

:O

[artimu5-is-odd]

[televisiongifs]

Community The Science of Illusion | 1.20

[ancientsstudies]

Renaissance Art GIFs. x

[wooteena]

are you telling me americans have stores that open up SPECIFICALLY for halloween and just. dont exist any other time of the year. you people are insane

[offishly]

Imagine an empty storefront. Some business that closed years ago. The building stands empty, unused for literal months. And then boom. Fall comes around and there’s a Spirit Halloween. There’s no escape.

[wooteena]

what the fuck 😁

[enderenby404]

Yeah this is a thing

[krystal-prisms]

Are you serious

[what-even-is-thiss]

Yes and they are divine gifts of beauty and cheap plastic lawn decorations.

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

… I honestly assumed that the existence of Halloween stores was just a running joke in American TV shows.

[what-even-is-thiss]

No they’re very real

[bisexualredactedenergy]

Can confirm this phenomenon also occurs in Canada

[fan-enby-anonymous]

It’s fun

[what-even-is-thiss]

Oh, it’s a blast.

[moonybyte]

Wait, so during non-halloween they are just empty? Like, they don’t switch between seasonal decorations (like christmas, easter, etc), they just…close and wait for next year???

[strawberrydragon]

Yeah, it’s not a permanent store. A company will rent an empty building for the 2-3 months before halloween, sell halloween stuff, and then clean everything up and disappear until the following year. And they’ll usually set up in different buildings from year to year. They just find any good-sized empty store space that will give them a cheap, short-term lease.

It’s so temporary that the halloween stores don’t even have a real sign, they just hang up a banner outside:

[wheeled-jack]

So you’re telling me that every year for a month or two the Spirit of Halloween possesses a dead building then disappears?

[velvety-vixen]

that is exactly what we’re telling you