Kiana Khansmith
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
blake kathryn
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
NASA
Origami Around
Discoholic 🪩
Cosimo Galluzzi
#extradirty
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
Fai_Ryy
Keni
Love Begins
ellievsbear
PR's Tumblrdome
d e v o n
𓃗
hello vonnie
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
taylor price
seen from Uruguay
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Latvia
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Switzerland
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
@lifelinesandwords
It’s strewn across the room, in this haphazard mess. The wind rolls and papers run, pens break under the stress of your breath. Clothes struggle to leap off your chest, leaving a ghost hand around the neck. Thunder rips from the throat. Chairs and paintings startle. Books dive off their shelves. Hair is torn from the roots. A storm consumes you as you watch your hands fly.
-Isis Purcell
pine fades and melts in the suns hot rays.
the bark of the tree is eaten away each and every day.
this summer brought all sorts of nasty things that do nothing but burrow and bite.
right now winter sounds so nice.
-Isis Purcell
I'm sorry i haven't been active for so long everyone, i have been so overwhelmingly busy! :) its good to be back though.
as the waves roll and the tides groan
bone grates against bone.
the cymbals crash and the devastation picks its path.
ribbons glide and find deep dark.
pale fingers scramble, scratching, leaving their mark.
sapphires caught in the throat, needing somewhere to call home.
the precious gleam leaving you alone.
the opal winks and says goodbye above each crest.
seaweed adjusts and makes a nest.
a dress shifts and leaves you vulnerable,
hoping you are brave.
-Isis Purcell
There are times when I don't even know how to write, and everything seems to be choking you. Sometimes I wish I could decide when I wanted to stop breathing and not have my breath taken from me when I'm not ready.
Plastic
Blank. Without a frame. Destined to be wasted. Blind, looking for help to see. A new eye, a new price. Skin and gold. Painters and carpenters scrambling. A new face, a new portrait. Seeing the used and broken parts, Dead on the carpet. New and compatible. Look, a mirror. -Isis Purcell
Fresh snow
It’s reflected off the moonlit snow, a story in such intricate detail no one else knows. Each language written in this cold, white crystal. To bind all stories alike and unique and never sell the book. It cheats us. Making us think we have to pay for something we already own. Yet we are too paranoid to leave our path. If trust was dishonest then we would run. Jump and travel across this white mirror, until your feet turned into another’s. After you read what’s written you may get frostbitten, but giving the other your pen will help your fingers ache. When the cold comes understanding works better than a scalding submersion. -Isis Purcell
All the sunsets were made of him. All of the wilted flowers were his breath. All of the torn art scattering the floor was his bones. The sunrise was his death, flower blossoms were his hate. And masterpieces were what he left behind. Reflections scared him. He never saw the stars at night. Instead he preferred to be blind. He never saw the beauty I saw in him, never understood that just because it passes doesn’t mean it’s gone. I saw comets in his eyes. And I felt the green valleys in his soul. He refused to feel the soft cotton of bed sheets, he refused to love someone in that white wrinkled mess. His words were birds that touched the sky at night. But he will never see himself in the correct light. -Isis Purcell (JM series)
Harry: *in a crowd and can’t find Eggsy* looks like this calls for drastic measures
Harry: *yells* PUGS ARE HORRIBLE LITTLE SHITS
Eggsy: *tearing through the crowd* what the FUCK did you just say?
Harry: found him
Looking at you leads to starvation. Listening to your words, watching the sunrise in your eyes. You are made of the feeling that comes with waking to birds. Made of tiptoes across the hallway and lazy thoughts. Made of dry ink and thick paper. Made of lyrics that haven't been shared. Desert sand and wind that echoes in seaside caves. Of languages only young will know. The sights a newborn frost beholds. Air that comes with a fire and knitted throws and bundled feet. The woods when everyone's asleep. -Isis ( JM series )
Every time I watch this, I tear up. Wonderful animation from Glen Keane, who also worked on The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, and Pocahontas.
I’M SCREAMING
delete this
Current mood: listening to sexy back by Justin timberlake over and over again, while eating chips in sweat pants and a Sports bra
Needy
Hold me. Not to be demanding, but don't let me go. Love me. Not to be bossy, but go gentle and slow. Kiss me. Not to ask for more than you want to give, but give me one each morning. Keep me. Not to make you keep something you don't want, but don't ever lock me out. -Isis Purcell (JM series)
If the heart and soul paints does it have to be pretty? It shouldn't be so if it is. If there is a color pattern the painter must be cheating. The texture should be smooth, bumpy, haphazard. And the final picture one only the artist knows. The art is no longer the mask, so don't bother making it becoming. The comfort in this project is in coloring outside the lines, or off the canvas. Where does the hectic stop and the calm start? Do you really have a pristine heart ? If the heart and soul paints, the art can't be merely pretty. -Isis Purcell
A shiver runs down the spine while your hands draw. Trying to pay attention to your art, but overwhelmed. A kiss here, A kiss there, A tug in your hair, More shivers. I’m so far gone I forget to hold back. I moan and bite your neck. Falling in love with the way I get you to hold your breath. I try to go in again, loving the power I hold when you react. You move too fast. Hands travel down the back, grip the hips. Your tongue dances, and you kiss bellow the jawline. The head stretches back, and the body leans in. Hips moving with yours I can’t help but grin. Your hands tighten in response, so I continue to move. Just trying to concentrate. Your actions make it too hard. My shirt is off, my hair in your face. I was supposed to concentrate. All I can do is feel. Feel you and love you with all that I am. As I give in, Let you have me, And sigh into the bedspread. A kiss here, A kiss there, And shivers everywhere. -Isis Purcell (JM series)
The conversation between your fingers and someone else’s skin. This is the most important discussion you can ever have.
Iain S. Thomas (via ohteenscanrelate)
