Fallen On Purpose

it will always only hurt

[effieleeart]

“What a strange idea. Love isn’t feeling. If it were, I wouldn’t be able to love. Cherubim don’t have feelings.”

[not-so-divine]

Oh, but they lied.

Falling doesn't hurt

until you get

caught.

[not-so-divine]

I want you between my wings,

I want you between my teeth.

[gossamer-feathers]

“There is an old language broken in my throat.”

— Sheryl Luna, from “River Ghost,” Pity the Drowned Horses (University of Notre Dame Press, 2005)

[howlsnteeth]

@ssugarwitch

[gossamer-feathers]

Elbow-deep in acid-bath blood, glowing like something nuclear, something older. Atomic bombs do not touch the potency of our blood, golden and glimmering, and eating its way through the unworthy. 

[inksplit]

[not-so-divine]

Oh God, I was not meant to last

[assassin1513]

🍂Autumn Space 🍂 gifs made by me :)

[firstfullmoon]

“The rain will eventually come, or not. / Until then, we touch our bodies like wounds— / the war never ended and somehow begins again.”

— Natalie Diaz, from “Postcolonial Love Poem,” Postcolonial Love Poem (via lifeinpoetry)

[chaoticsweetiee]

going home

[jossujb]

A compilation post of things in a sort of similar vein and trail of thought.

[goddexsuggestion]

you may rest easy in my feathers, i will cradle you in my wings

[actually-angelic]

Divinity

Sometimes, divinity is gold and ivory, rose water and soft, white feathers. It is towering clouds and iridescent seas.

But other times, divinity is dried blood under your nails. Divinity is a scream trapped in your throat, burning to be free and tear your mortal vessel apart. Divinity is rage, blindness, the raw and sanguinary repentance of sin, the merciless cleansing of the damned.

And other times still, divinity is nothing at all. It is intangible, empyrean nihility.

What is divinity to you, my angel?

[gossamer-feathers]

I am holy, yes, but mostly, I am angry. I am angry I cannot protect innocents like I once did. I am angry at the frailty of these bones. I am angry at the rippling of my skin. I am angry at a world I cannot heal. It is too far gone. They forget to tell you, being an angel is synonymous with being angry. After all, we are divine wrath. 

[swordsking-deactivated20210811]

“[She bites God in the wrist]”

— stage direction from Artaud’s  The Jet of Blood (via comachild)

[sakrogoat]

Lente Scura - La Regina della Luce della Luna