tender * / @kissgentles - Tumblr Blog

#.*╰ we can not carry these burdens alone in the dark ❜ ── ( musings )

elías .

* ╰ featuring @kissgentles.

he’d once drawn bloodied ghosts from their mouths, smeared hauntings, - those unshed tears battled a torrent in his chest. & the world spins. finger and thumb unravelling grief stitched jumpers, calloused hands reaching into the lining that held alicia in this town. those fragmented remains held in the hideout. their haven. it’s smaller now he is older, overgrown limbs folded into a beanbag. he learns to mourn the thirteen year old boy who burned open casket funerals into speckled vision. the bottom of the garden that is still muddy & empty.

he peers at the debris, spine broken books strewn from it’s last reader. the underbelly of his grief sewn in pocket-sized smiles, - a tremor threatening to shake. he learns to haunt a body that does not feel like him anymore, one who is teeth bared & empty laughter. but he is exhausted, sewn facades onto features that will not no of rest yet. whose peace comes when grief wet lashes flutter shut. & he sees surrender and serenity in VAL.

& all he sees is him. stark & bare. folded into sullen speckled features, offering a smile that is reserved for apricot soaked sunrises at the diner. “ it’s smaller then i remember. ” he doesn’t talk about the fatal beating of his heart, carving nails into flesh. those letters left unanswered. guilt, he pinpoints, is what he feels. but is unable to rest into his chest and pull an apology. why must you be so soft? he’s angry, volatile. waiting until they were shaking. bruised. yearning. but he softens. “ can’t believe i manged to sit on these comfortably, no wonder i get leg cramps now. maybe i should sue you for damages ? ”

Love was something known under a rosy-fingered moon, hanging low in the sky. Taught by those with teeth that glisten like wolves int he low luminance as tear into those pieces of himself that Val gives away so willingly. Starving.

To be starved.

And how they clung, to those threads of something they’re able to call by the name of love. Just as Alicia lingered touches, and her soft stares- and her vibrant laugh in the club house once everyone had left. Scraps of moments, Val insisted on digging into. Clinging to. Love, after all, always demanded their attention like a plant Val would overwater. For he never knew when to stop giving.

“ Perhaps you’ve gotten too big for the town, is this how the big city treated you? ” It felt wrong to be joking, words so light in the dense air. It all felt wrong. But Val couldn’t stop it, that lightness in their tone, the tease in their words. The way only softness came when they spoke even though it was lingering there. All of it. She’s gone.

You left.

“ Wouldn’t you miss it though? The way the vinyl pinches your legs, and splinters stick from the tables time to time? Nothing like the authenticity. ”

#.*╰ words which water flowers ⊹ and eyes so warm ❜ ── ( interactions )#*with elías!

dolly .

🏥 · * . 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊 , it wasn’t as if the brunette had planned to stay out of finch for the summer . the mutual agreement between grazer & her mother was that yes , she would be going to nursing school , one of her own preference ( so long as mother approved of it as well ) , but summers were to be spent back home , in the company of the old woman . she’d even made sure her daughter would get an internship at the local hospital ; after all , the grazer matriarch was the head nurse . there was no way they’d refuse giving dolores the job , & in her mother’s eyes , the girl’s future would be set from then on . a future dolly herself despised . not finch , not again .

that being said , her job barely even crossed her mind these days , especially after the faux pas that occurred when she heard the news . the director was more than happy to give her some time off , even if her mother couldn’t quite comprehend her own daughter’s desperation . from that day on , dolores often found herself sitting in the laundromat for no reason other than liking the place . liked the atmosphere , the scent of fresh clothes . inhaler resting between palms as she watched the outside through glass windows , the petite girl wondered how long it would take for the others to find her around town . who did tommy call first , & was dolly the last one to know ? … did it mean she was the least important ?

thoughts snapped back to reality when her eyes caught sight of a familiar figure standing outside , knocking gently on the glass as if in attempt to catch her attention . it worked . soon enough , dolly was standing on her feet & exiting the laundromat , hands finding a home in the pockets of the cardigan over her beige dress . ❝ guess you found me , ❞ she greets with an awkward chuckle . everything felt off to her now that the leader was gone .

The sun does not know the scene it caresses with a gentle warmth- a town fraying at the edges where paint chips from buildings, and passing cars kick gravel to the sidewalk. Cigarette butts flung from windows, embers sparking as they hit the ground before turning to ash quicker than one could blink. Such fleeting beauty. It was always the ugliness that stayed behind. Lingering.

Someone walks down the street. His stature a little too tall for his build, his cheeks a little too flushed, his steps a little too heavy to be considered peaceful on the sidewalk. But he holds onto something- a moment. That ever present fleeting beauty, seems to stain their smile with something delightful. And everything that seemed dull, would ignite the moment they spotted a familiar face sitting in the laundromat. Rapping knuckles against the window, face pressed against the glass.

“ Were you planning on hiding in humidity all day? ” There’s an attempt at something jovial in their tone, but through the heaviness of it all Val fears it didn’t seep all the way through. “ I can’t think of much worse than being alone, not right now at least. ”

#.*╰ words which water flowers ⊹ and eyes so warm ❜ ── ( interactions )#*with dolly!

baby-harpseal

and the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.

Richard Siken, Snow and Dirty Rain (via saintssebastian)

#.*╰ we can not carry these burdens alone in the dark ❜ ── ( musings )#anyway here's everyone's fave siken boy to wrap up the night

‘ you were made to be loved

#loversclubintro #.*╰ we can not carry these burdens alone in the dark ❜ ── ( musings )#i'm too tired to make anything coherent #i'm rewoding interview things and will add them tomorrow #i promise!!

outofcontextdiscord

#this felt fitting to start with #.*╰ we can not carry these burdens alone in the dark ❜ ── ( musings )

olivermarys

VI, AYLA S.

#.*╰ we can not carry these burdens alone in the dark ❜ ── ( musings )

isakeijzer-deactivated20240528

#the height difference

#.*╰ we can not carry these burdens alone in the dark ❜ ── ( musings )

anthropologyofwater-deactivated

— excerpt from “landscape with a blur of conquerors” by richard siken

#.*╰ we can not carry these burdens alone in the dark ❜ ── ( musings )

yoursummerdreamz

#.*╰ we can not carry these burdens alone in the dark ❜ ── ( musings )

memoryslandscape-deactivated202

Romantic obsession is my first language. I live in a world of fantasies, infatuations and love poems. Sometimes I wonder if the yearning I’ve felt for others was more of a yearning for yearning itself. I’ve pined insatiably and repeatedly: for strangers, new lovers, unrequited flames. While the subjects changed, that feeling always remained. Perhaps, then, I have not been so infatuated with the people themselves, but with the act of longing.

Melissa Broder, from “Life without Longing,” The New York Times (9 February 2019) (via memoryslandscape)

#.*╰ we can not carry these burdens alone in the dark ❜ ── ( musings )

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