The Attic

"I wandered this forest barefoot and built an attic in the trees tops, and here I store my soul" please enjoy my artwork & prose

[vexheart]

[quotefeeling]

“I’ve had so many knives stuck into me, when they hand me a flower I can’t quite make out what it is. It takes time.”

— Charles Bukowski

[remanence-of-love]

[remanence-of-love]

[pollen]

what are you waiting for? someone to grant you permission? the perfect and permanent emotion? a shooting star to magic away every problem you have or ever have had? alright, wait away then. but no one is going to live your life for you while you wait to become someone else

[sarahs-attic]

“And so we suffer, not because nobody cares, or because we want to but rather for the sake of avoiding an explanation and in the fear of wanting sympathy”

— Us shadows, watching the moon. - s.e.s

[feral-ballad]

Kevork Emin, from Anthology of Armenian Poetry, ed. & tr. by Diana Der Hovanessian and Marzbed Margossian; "The waiting"

[indiaknox-deactivated20251025]

I removed myself from everything I had to question.

[remanence-of-love]

[1five1two]

[weltenwellen]

Warsan Shire, from “Backwards”, Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head

[sarahs-attic]

“I’m not the same girl who was in your arms a year ago, I’ve grown stronger. My lips are a new shade of red, I wear new perfume and have shorter hair. I was so consumed with loving you, that you consumed me.”

— It took some time, s.e.s (via iwritetofightthenight)

[sarahs-attic]

I wanted someone to share the silence, or maybe someone who would pretend my shouts weren't whispers in the void.

-s.e.s

[rueyam]

to be loved softly in the harshness of this world

[soracities]

“…I poured myself into her. There was no pink ticket, there were no calculations, there was no One State, there was no me. There were only gentle, sharp, clenched teeth and there were gold eyes thrown wide open to me—and through them I slowly went inside, deeper and deeper still. And silence—except in the corner, thousands of miles away, where drops were dripping into the sink […] eras and epochs passed as drop followed drop…”

— Yevgeny Zamyatin, We (trans. Natasha Randall)

[lylylylylylylylyly]

[noorshirazie]

“Maybe the beauty lies in the inability to understand you. How I wish I could know what you feel when you look away.”

— Noor Shirazie