#blackirisedit

[latetotheworld]

books read in 2018

black iris - leah raeder

“you set me free. now let me go. 

i grew you well, my little black iris.”

[caelestisnox]

LGBT+ books: Black Iris by Leah Raeder

“Falling for someone is like pulling a loose thread. It happens stitch by stitch. You feel whole most of the time even while the seams pop, the knots loosen, everything that holds you together coming undone. It feels incredible, this opening of yourself to the world. Not like the unraveling it is. Only afterward do you glance down at the tangle of string around your feet that used to be a person who was whole and self-contained and realize that love is not a thing that we create. It's an undoing.”

[andruwminyrd]

books read in 2k16. black iris by leah raeder

if i was gay, i wouldn't need an asterisk beside my name. i could stop worrying if the girl i like will bounce when she finds out i also like dick. i could have a coming-out party without people thinking i just want attention. i wouldn't have to explain that i fall in love with minds, not genders or body parts. people wouldn't say i'm 'just a slut' or 'faking it' or 'undecided' or 'confused.' i'm not confused. i don't categorize people by who i'm allowed to like and who i'm allowed to love. love doesn't fit into boxes like that. it's blurry, slippery, quantum. it's only limited by our perceptions and before we slap a label on it and cram it into some category, everything is possible.

[hilokaul]

If I was gay, I wouldn't need an asterisk beside my name. I could stop worrying if the girl I like will bounce when she finds out I also like dick. I could have a coming-out party without people thinking I just want attention. I wouldn't have to explain that I fall in love with minds, not genders or body parts. People wouldn't say I'm 'just a slut' or 'faking it' or 'undecided' or 'confused.' I'm not confused. I don't categorize people by who I'm allowed to like and who I'm allowed to love. Love doesn't fit into boxes like that. It's blurry, slippery, quantum. It's only limited by our perceptions and before we slap a label on it and cram it into some category, everything is possible.

[producedbyarca]

the mad girl vs the wolf girl, @mermaidyke

When a girl doesn’t fall to pieces over some pheromone-drenched cavemen, she’s one of two tings. She’s either ugly like me, or-

“Not worth it,” he said. “couple of dykes.”

All I saw was the blood, I didn’t even see Blythe hit him. Just a brilliant bouquet of liquid red petals bursting in his face. (...) Blythe didn’t flinch. In her eyes I caught a maniacal glint of delight.

(...) She scrubbed her hand over her mouth, spreading that rusty-redness, then smiled, more of a leer.  “Am I still pretty, Laney?”

God, yes. “You look feral.”

[producedbyarca]

LISTEN HERE — VOLUME 46

— we were wolf girls, kissing wildly with teeth and nails. Our hair fell in our faces and our fingers drew blood and we didn’t care. We’d always been savage with each other.

[producedbyarca]

L I S T E N H E R E

"'My wild girl.' I kissed her cool cheek. 'My mad girl.' I kissed her temple, her brow, her closed eyes. 'I don't need anything in this world except you.' But no matter how many times I said it, no matter how many times I showed her with my hands and my mouth, it would never add up to what I felt inside. It would never be enough to hold her here with me."