the dreadful dove.

aes   &.   inspo   .   sideblog   to   anguisa   .

[mashamorevna]

[keefrich-deactivated20151214]

[adrasteiax]

— I am a cemetery abhorred by the moon, In which long worms crawl like remorse

Charles Baudelaire, from Spleen in “The Flowers Of Evil” [translated by William Aggeler] (via adrasteiax)

[adrasteiax]

(…) the darkness entirely within myself.

Joanna Klink, from Toward What Island-Home Am I Moving in “Excerpts From A Secret Prophecy” (via adrasteiax)

[luthienne]

Denise Levertov, from Life in the Forest; “A Daughter (I)”

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

But now I am all serpent, and I go where serpents go, taking my path,

Annie Finch, from Spells: New & Selected Poems; “Lamia to Lycius,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

[11-15-11]

[cotonblanc-deactivated20150422]

[frackowivk]

[mygifs-source]

[de-morte]

I drank grief and darkness from the same chalice, and left them both empty.

Channing H. M (via de-morte)

[adrasteiax]

Secrecy flows through you, a different kind of blood.

Margaret Atwood, from Secrecy in “The Door” (via adrasteiax)

[adrasteiax]

The guilt lingers, like the scent of fallen apples rotting in an orchard.

Laura Purcell, from The Silent Companions (via adrasteiax)

[a-quiet-green-agreement]

–Robert Penn Warren

[louisvuitttonn]

[luthienne]

Make a place for yourself in the darkness and wait there. Be there.

Denise Levertov, from To Stay Alive; “Entr’acte” (via luthienne)

[adrasteiax]

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep,

Robert Frost, from Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening in “The Poetry Of Robert Frost: The Collected Poems” (via adrasteiax)