like a fist. like a knife.

[bodyofdeath]

crossfaded on what no longer is and what remains to be seen

[stupidrehab]

that’s just my nightstand knife don’t worry

[generic-art]

[mournfulroses]

Mary Oliver, from a poem titled "Work," featured in The Southern Review (edited)

[gouged-doll]

jiro takamatsu

[sim1blanket]

did my therapist tell me I should work on sleeping more? yes absolutely but has she considered that the horrors are lurking in there? I don’t think so

[knightedangel-deactivated202605]

[whatlightdoes]

. . . perhaps the same

bird echoed through both of us

yesterday, separate, in the evening . . .

[skunkstripe]

(via)

[many-sparrows]

“You see, I want a lot.

Maybe I want it all:

the darkness of each endless fall,

the shimmering light of each assent.

So many are alive who don’t seem to care.

Casual, easy, they move in the world

as though untouched.

But you take pleasure in the faces

of those who know they thirst.

You cherish those

who grip you for survival.

You are not dead yet, it’s not too late

to open your depths by plunging into them

and drink in the life

that reveals itself quietly there.”

— Ranier Marie Rilke, The Book of Hours: The Book of Monastic Life, poem 14

[sunfl0we3]

[sim1blanket]

[sim1blanket]

[my-kelde]

Clementine Keith-Roach. Idol, 2020.

terracotta vessel, jesmonite, paint, coin

[achillesinhighheels]

[urfavnafri]

me in therapy

[pmamtraveller]

antique Adam and Eve pendant, “i am your half”

[pmamtraveller]

By Jen Mazza