#ixv

[plushiluv]

Fenrir by MagnaStorm I’m back to work on commissions, just finished this guy! He’s also available for pre-orders in my shop~ http://plushiluv.storenvy.com/

[herebly]

I am bounded and surrounded by dark clouds; in the middle of the night where the only confidants accessible are the silent drops of rain and a tight-lipped breeze that holds me dearly, I realized that all of us came from the selfsame roots that made us. We may differ in our corporeal state, but one thing is certain, and that is we were once comparable. All of us were drenched by the same amount of heavenly body, but we have obtained them differently. We were protected by the gods of the ocean, but we became defiant. As we develop and mature, we discovered different things with our own ways and learned that we all wanted to be different. Our hearts suddenly became unruly; they promptly want to exist in different worlds. Some aspired to be the universe — the stars who watch our thoughts each night. Some wanted to be like the trees, to stand tall and to be the ones who will never be forgotten. Some desired to lodge in the ocean that no matter how lethal the waves are, they will still be willing to witness the calm between the storms. Some are emphatic about where they really want to be, but many are lost.

a.m., Of Shelters And Destinations 

[herebly]

i. you have made me as someone who would openly embrace every defeated fragment that my manifestation concedes ii. you have made me as someone who would accept the lethal waves your ocean makes iii. you have made me as someone who would sacrifice the debris of our memories for the aim of remembering iv. you have made me as someone who would venture an abandoned home to witness every bruise of someone’s heart v. you have made me as someone who would bear the bullets that your gun and heart free vi. you have made me as someone who would not fear sentiments for you have etched on my heart that they would not kill vii. you have made me as someone who would perceive the beauty this world has to offer viii. you have made me as someone who would not be scared to love words and be a part of them ix. you have made me a dreamer, someone who would hope in spite of all uncertainties

a.m., To The Boy Who Made Me

[herebly]

We belong in a home with closed doors. Windows that are hitched like fixed links. Floors that are made of matchsticks one step and we burn, calloused tongues blaze every time we speak. We are in a world with no heart to start with, only two souls venturing to mend. There is no way out of this Stygian home, for when we are together, none of us will ever be free. “Home is where the heart is”, and you took mine away.

a.m., Stygian Home For Hearts

[herebly]

do not break my heart— it will shatter into wee debris as scattered as our memories when you neglect each one of them, slowly. it will cause wrecking to my being and i will no longer be able to go back   do not break my heart— it will create uncertainty between passion and pain; for when it breaks, both sentiments will have its unvarying meaning, and they will never be poles apart, again do not break my heart— it will make my words hurt and they will be all about you. they will not lose their nuance for it is only your fragments they will recognize do not break my heart— it will induce my soul pain; i may not hurt you by my words, but they will cause you night terrors for your soul would not handle the blameworthiness you have built do not break my heart— it will put me lower than when i fell; it will pierce the ties that hold me together and i will never rise again do not break my heart— it will cloud over my sunshine and it will not be capable of bringing you light during your pitch-black significance do not break my heart— it will turn the peaceful rain in my heart into a storm that might trouble every calm ocean that lives in you do not break my heart— for you and i will never be at peace

a.m., Of Fragments and Hearts

[herebly]

My phrases will no longer bleed to the sound of your voice. my heart may replicate each letter of your name, but my bygone words and locutions will neglect the remembrance of the marks you disappear from. My letters will be a soft reminder that no matter how immense the throb you furnished my heart with, it will always, always be you. In spite of all the weakness and vices, my heart will still photograph you as the most beautiful subject matter it has ever felt. My heart remembers everyone that leaves, but I will never look at you as someone who left. I will think of you as someone who rose and someone who decided to embrace self-love and solitude. This time, my words will no longer be capable of making you stay. They will not be something as vast as the storm in your heart, but they will be a prompt that no matter how treacherous your own psyche is, there will always be a calm in your existence.

a.m., Of Possessions and Prompts

[herebly]

as we walk by on a busy street we see people; the ones who differ from each other for having dissimilar colors, the way they walk, or the approach they give to one another, for having different ideas in one discussion. we see their differences by the way they dress on different occasions, the way they choose the music to play, or even, by the way they dance with the same song. but these are all corporeal. the physical ones, the things that can be easily seen by our naked eyes. these are all that we see every day. what we see during the day, is also what we see at night: people. but with this girl, there is something peculiar about her eyes. she cannot see any of these things, not even a single detail about them. what she could only see is people’s soul. she would always see what’s within, the ones that cannot be seen by eyes only. she sees the pain, hurt, sorrow, all the emotions a person could feel. she sees everything. she could even see people holding hands, but with the one person sad and the other, happy and she wonders, how can they be together? these are all her eyes discern every day: people’s heart.

a.m., 3:16

[herebly]

We were both indecisive we forgot who we really are. I used to remind myself that just because I love what’s broken, I’d be broken too. I guess, it really isn’t about that; I was broken, because of the willingness to be one, to be like you. We both agreed to not shatter each other, without knowing you are already on the verge of breaking. Slowly, slowly. I was threatened by the way your brokenness conquers you. I was selfish, I only want me conquering you. Then I told you, I am willing. I’m willing to break for you, to be just like you. And so, I did. Slowly, slowly. Being the insensible ones, we lost the sight of what we have, of who we really are. And now, I conclude, our brokenness drew us apart.

a.m., To The Broken Boy Who Broke Me (too)