I STAND IN A VALLEY WATCHING IT.

i　am　vacant　,　unhaunted . (　𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦　𝘣𝘺　𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 .　)

[stimman4000]

bro you better shut the fuck up before i look at you one day and feel warm and realize i’ve fallen in love with you bro. im serious quit it dude

[shewolv-blog1]

@onlynear​

[stardust-devi]

Saoirse Ronan as Jo March - Little Women (2019), dir. Greta Gerwig

[lhzthepoet]

“The fairy tale gets a little darker after midnight. It’s not about fighting villains anymore. It’s about the hero trying not to destroy themselves.”

— and off in the corner, the princesses are sharpening their swords // L.H.Z

[shewolv-blog1]

*     onlynear‌      .

@shewolv  asked  :  “  you  look  so  cute  when  you’re  asleep  ,  i  didn’t  want  to  disturb  you  .  ”  gimme  that  soft  hollice  content  !!!!!

‘     aw  ,  frig  .  what  time  is  it  ?     ’     wanton  head  falls  almost  naturally  into   hollis’  waiting  lap  ,  jake’s  eyes  still  semi  shut  against  the  dim  light  of  the  tv  screen  .     ‘    did  i  miss  the  movie  ?  geez  ,  sorry  .  i’l  make  it  up  to  you  ,  mkay  ?     ’     lethargia  leaves  him  droopy  ,  without  the  strength  to  lean  upwards  and  kiss  hollis  proper  –  instead  ,  he  rolls  over  ,  presses  lips  to  their  knee  ,  delicate  and  absent  .     ‘     was  having  a  real  nice  dream  .  you  were  in  it  .     ’

they can’t help smiling down at him,      hand pausing where it has run absentmindedly through his hair for the last hour - and - change.      there’s moments when hollis feels like the luckiest person alive.      this is one      :      jake sleepy      &      comfortable leant against them,      gentle and kind and theirs.      ‘   nah,     you didn’t miss much      —      movie wasn’t very good anyway.      bet the dream was better.   ’      they lean down,      lips touching to his forehead for a split - second.      ‘   tell me about it?   ’

[violints-a-blog]

GRADUALLY,      IN  OPEN  MOUTHS      &      RESTLESS  CHILDHOODS      &      A  THOUSAND  GUT  -  WRENCHES  .

[resours]

a   sentence   starter   inspired   by    “ MABEL ”    a   podcast   about   ghosts ,   family   secrets ,   strange   houses ,   and   missed   connections   written   by   becca   de   la   rosa   and   mabel   martin.  

did i dream you?

are you real? are you anything of flesh, do you breathe?

you knew me, as though i was a piece of you, something you’d been missing.

where does it come from, the thread that ties us together?

i see you now, as i saw you then.

sometimes i think i would eat you if i could.

what am i if not a jaw full of teeth?

what do we eat, if not history?

what feeds our engines, if not fairy tales?

a story that refuses to end is not a story. it is a prison.

what is the nature of ownership?

if anything, i believe that i own you.

do i not have you leashed?

you will never find me, you will never catch me.

there will be no trace of me left for you to hold.

and by what nameless name do you like to be called?

i want out of the dark just as much as you do.

i am not your torch, nor am i your guidelight.

a good pet is only worth the distance her leash might stretch.

what prayer crosses your lips?

do you still dream of freedom?

is love freedom? or only a longer leash?

love is a leash that pulls both ways.

i thought we could do anything if we were together.

if this was a fair story, you would have already come back to me.

i was lost when i came here first. so some of me will always be lost.

last time you were here , you just kept saying you were lost.

i went in for coffee and most of me never came out.

[shewolv-blog1]

I   AM   SINGING   NOW   WHILE   ROME   BURNS   !      —   &   multimuse  by  rosemary  ,  featuring  muses  from  marvel  comics  ,  stranger  things  ,  the  adventure  zone  ,  dungeons  &  dragons  ,  &  more  !

[shewolv-blog1]

i have abt 30 pins to paint for f.lamecon this weekend so !!   im not letting myself get on here till a big chunk of those is done !!   yell @ me if u see me here !!

[shewolv-blog1]

hollis doesn’t get along w their family at all which is a main reason they’re so attached to the hornets      —      they think of the hornets as their family,       the only one they’ve got,       and they’d die for any one of their crew in a goddamn heartbeat.      they’re the middle sibling of three and their brother and sister both took a more traditional path in life      :       they’ve both gone to college,      their older brother is engaged,     etc,     and their parents are...     more outwardly proud of their siblings,     for sure.     none of hollis’ family really understand why the hell they’d pack up their things straight outta high school and take their motorcycle to a teeny tiny town a few hours south.       they don’t talk to their biological family,      but they spend every moment with their found family      —      the hornets are basically their whole life.

[shewolv-blog1]

hollis voice:    we’re not like, antagonists in a disney channel original movie

[shewolv-blog1]

@onlynear      :      'i know you’re there. i know you’re listening.' hollice babey...             /              meme,       accepting.

there is a part of hollis that wants to pretend they aren’t there      —      to continue to curl up within theirself,      build a nest out of their ribs and live there,      until someday they die and it’s discovered that their insides are all twigs and stray pieces of yarn,      a suitable home for them to hide in.      that’s easier.      it’s been two days since the attack on the hornet’s nest.      two long,      long fucking days       —      days of hollis visiting their crew in the hospital,     keeping a strong face,      being the fucking impenetrable leader everyone expects them to be.     they’ve shut off anything but anger,     this pure rage at whatever did this,     and they’ve hardly slept for how much it makes their heart race.      are they not entitled to one moment alone,     now?      one moment to process,       to grieve,     before they get back on their bike with a bat strapped to their back and holy hellfire in their eyes?

but jake’s always known how to break down their defenses.      they’d loved that about him,     back in the day.     they can’t quite remember the feeling now,     just the echoes of it      :       a faded polaroid of an emotion.     (   they’re having trouble remembering much of anything but recent events     :      bloodshed imprinted on the insides of their eyelids every time they dare to blink.      how catastrophe consumes the mind.   )     jake must have seen their bike outside the building,     must’ve seen the lights on in their windows.      just this once,     they admit defeat and open the door,     quickly enough that it slams against the wall.      the sound makes hollis feel just an inch better.

‘   i don’t want to talk.   ’      what is there to talk about?     jake isn’t a hornet anymore,      he has no idea what their crew is going through.     he couldn’t possibly.      (   and besides,     hollis had seen the beast bolt through the woods towards his beloved lodge.      there are monsters in the woods,     the fairytales say.      hollis is beginning to believe.   )      they shut down the part of their mind that sees his face as a familiar comfort,      and narrow their eyes,     ever - defensive.      ‘    'less you know anything about what did this      —       there’s nothing to talk about.   ’

[rosources]

—   sentence starters   :   the poetry of emily berry,   from the penguin anthology if i’m scared we can’t win.

actually, it’s tuesday, and i’m taken aback.

you know perfectly well i believe nothing worthwhile is explainable.

dear boy, don’t be so literal.

i’m not sure if you were there or not. did you want to be?

in a long undergrowth of wanting i creep.

these white corridors are not free from longing.

dear knee bones, dear palms, dear faithful body: i have wants.

a scribble is the way a heartbeat is told. my heart scribbles your name.

i have given you my proud desperate undeviating wish over and over and over.

we remain sane despite the worrisome nature of details.

we made this prayer, a faithless one, it took all our energy to say: please help.

i said: we’re afraid of this house and we’re not safe in our bones.

you worthless excuse for a story.

last week summer fled like it was panic-attacking.

you can get used to pretty much anything.

i have known a person who, in contravention of the given narrative, was taken down, reached an end point too soon.

i was very young when i was cracked open.

praise be for the gentle, brokenhearted person.

when the terrible thing happened someone said be strong, as if we might lay steel cables for bones, petrify our whole soft viscera.

i am writing my first political poem which is also (always) about my love for you.

she sees everything from an un-given-up perspective.

i get the feeling in my chest, my whole life in there twisted up like a snake. it could bite me or you.

hello. i share your doubt. i am full of uncertainty.

there is a part of me that will always miss what i lost.

i went back to the burned house.

give us this day our proper rituals! give us some fucking ceremony!

i veiled my tender wound. i veiled my narrative.

i was so small! i was so capable!

it’s no use you can’t help me.

i wish to be immersed and live forever on the cusp of drowning.

her ghost took many forms. sometimes she came down as rain, that was the most benign. other times she came close to killing me.

if you are not happy, the sea is not happy.

sometimes i think if the devil came and offered to swap me into some other body without me knowing what i’d be getting, i’d say …sure.

i wanted to love the world.

my thoughts are wrong. my thoughts are wrong.

stop, language is crawling all over me.

[rosources]

—   lyric starters   :   36 questions   ,   songs from act one.

whoever you are, you share a lot in common with my husband ___.

so i feel like i know you. like we’ve met before.

i drove like 27 hours to get to this place.

i know you’re there. i know you’re listening.

you deserve to get to know the person you’re trying your damnedest to let go.

whoever you are, you have a thousand reasons not to trust whoever i am.

for whatever it’s worth, i also have no clue as to who i actually am.

this is the first time in my life that i am sure.

i won’t leave ‘til you open up the door.

hear me out. let me in.

there are mosquitos everywhere, i think they’re eating me alive.

one thing. i came out here for one thing. and that little bitty one thing was to forget about you.

after three days here, it was unbearable.

there it is, black mold, killing us slowly each night.

sometimes to solve a problem you follow it back to the start.

in trying to fix one thing, i made everything worse.

i think maybe you’re obsessing over things you can control, hoping to control your feelings for…

just… just stop moving towards me. just stay on your side of the room.

after tonight, you’ll never hear from me again. if that’s what you want.

you left without saying a word.

there is something to the ritual of setting some old shit on fire.

we say goodbye to her, and hello to me.

all i want right now is the same thing i wanted two weeks ago. the truth. why did you lie to me?

the person who i was on the day you and i met was deeply ashamed of who she had become.

she was thirty-three on her fake id’s.

she was real to me.

i don’t expect for you to understand perfectly.

that’s one win for honesty.

i wish it were somebody else, but given the choice of anyone in the world, the only person i’d want over for dinner is you.

who are you? and why were you living a lie?

yes, in a world full of people who all haven’t hurt me the way that you hurt me, the only person i’d want over for dinner is you.

for the record, this is self-destructive. for the record, i’m aware of that.

there’s nothing left of my old life to spare.

it makes perfect sense to me. it’s kinda like a weird first date.

for the record, i did not expect this.

i guess i’m still afraid that i might lie.

if i was given the choice of telling you the truth or sticking knives into my eyes, i’d pick the knives. but i’ll survive.

if he didn’t love me anymore then why the hell did he open the front door?

there’s a good chance that this wine is terrible.

this is different. two years have gone by. my whole life was a lie.

there’s something that feels so familiar. we’ve been here before.

[shewolv-blog1]

@wirelies       /      jace !

a woman wears a mask.     a woman is herself,     not herself,      herself - being - watched - by - herself      —      never quite whole without eyes on her.       (   there’s a temptation to slipping underwater     —      being unseen,      for once,      no lies or sacrifice or gazes to weigh her down,      but still she goes,     bubbles trailing in her wake.    )      she’s natalie,    for now      :      some days she can almost believe it.      sometimes.

this is one of those times      :      a day when her mask blends almost seamlessly with her skin,     when her smile is neither judith nor natalie but simply herself.      the record takes note of this melding of two selves with the grin in her voice,      phone poking out of the chestpocket of her shirt.      she’s thinking.       quiet,      for a moment,       lips screwed to the side in that way they do when she’s deep in thought.      ‘   we should get a dog.       you know,      like that golden retriever you were dogsitting the first time we met?      we should get one!   ’

[kayleerowena]

✨✨ commissions are open! ✨✨ i just moved and really need money to pay rent & buy furniture for my new apartment, so please consider letting me draw you somethin!!

contact me at [email protected] if you’re interested! reblogs to spread the word are also incredibly appreciated 💖

[lifeinpoetry]

          but i’m never gonna be able to say it enough: memories

                          are only correct or incorrect              as we believe them to be.  

i will play       the swan, isolated and mysterious. let’s hope                                       i don’t end up in tears.

— Quinn Lui, from “THINGS YOU SAID IN THE SEASONAL CYCLE WHEN WE WERE BOTH IN LOVE,” published in Moonchild Magazine

[rushedin]

                             BOY  ,    FIGHTER  ,    SAVIOR  .     don’t  despair  at  the  end  of  the  world  .    you’ve  been  here  before    /    you’ll  be  here  again  .     do  you  ache  for  the  lives  you’ve  lost    ?    yes  ,    no  ,    maybe  .     it  doesn’t  matter  ,    whatever  the  answer  is  .     you  live  inside  yourself  ,    a  ghost  of  everyone  you’ve  been  ,    will  be  .     did  you  hear  me   ?    it’ll  be  over  soon  .    i’m  sorry  .                  ind  MAGNUS  BURNSIDES  .    sideblog  to  @terriblewounds  .    by  azzy  .                                            art    :    https://rabdoidal.tumblr.com/