#henleyriata

[henleyriata-blog]

Sink

I feel a pull toward the ocean I’ve never known before; a hand of wind leading me to roiling, briny waters, a crown of sea salt crystals, broken coral, and inhabited seashells grace my fragile brow in familiar halo. My sea sisters call me forth, beckoning me home with their song wailing, mournful, loud and mythic to man’s ear and yet I know their words and sob in reprise. Is it the crashing upon golden shores that bring me peace? Or is it in the answer that’s carried on by the waves?

let me come home

[thecoolkidsbasement]

hey guys!

so I’ve made a blog for my original writing and poetry

go check it out if you like that kinda stuff, I guess

peace

[henleyriata-blog]

The Art of Monsters (P.II)

authentic beauty and nature falsified by knife and needle to tear apart then sew together, the pieces of several shattered beings. birthed from an ignorant man of science did he see his fruit to be horrid, and a sin amongst Nature's perfect men that God would certainly strike him for. but is it the creature upon the table with broken face and deformed body— with childish eyes and uneducated tongue— that is to be condemned as a monster? or is it the ignorant man of science, that wielded the knife and needle in creation of his sinful fruit, who holds such a beastly soul that is to be condemned as a saintly scholar? nay, for the scholar is no saint! and it is here where this one mortal did decide to learn the secrets of God's hand and naively bestow upon himself such an ethereal practice— the art of monsters!

[henleyriata-blog]

The Art of Monsters (P.I)

one should not have the ambition to find the "cure" to death, because playing God is a treacherous solitude that no mortal should have to know and that no mortal should have to bear.

[henleyriata-blog]

21:26

|                                                         | | (I’m in love with you) |                                                         | |                                                         | |                                                         | |                                                         | |                                                         | |                                                         | |                                                         | |                                                         | |                                                         |                                        read 21:26  |

[henleyriata-blog]

enough

I think I haven’t said enough.

when the sun survives the storm clouds, I transpire in the twilight as a shadow inching through the dark, inky black and trying to hide am I too little, or too much in your eyes?

I think I’ve said too much.