#sparethought

[orchardofaskalaphos]

i exist in shades of rage.

[orchardofaskalaphos]

[orchardofaskalaphos]

nostalgia is the cobwebs in our ribcage from the lost corners where we once breathed. i cry when i hear your song. but in those moments, for the first time in a while, the cobwebs are finally cleared away. my breath is in rhythm with your heartbeat. it is as deep as my memory of you. i need you in my veins. without your name in my throat, i am swallowing blades. oxygen is sharp without your voice to soften it. with every cut i am reminded you were alive. you were alive. take me back to the night we met.

let me breathe you in until you coat my lungs. i will keep all of you beneath these layers of flesh, you will never die. you will live in me. take me back to the night we met.

[orchardofaskalaphos]

it’s crazy how unseen one can feel in a world so public. everything is posted and collected and screenshotted and stored and saved and yet. here i sit on my little tumblr, overlooked in the sea of posts and reposts and saves and replies. and there is something humbling to that. while we are all watched, not all are noticed. not all are seen. and even in a world blasted in chats and web forums and viral posts, one can still live in the shadows. one can still hide in the space between algorithms and notoriety. one can live there and whisper to the void, “ i am here ” and not a soul will hear them. they will be lost in the blur of pixels, locked away for safe keeping.

[orchardofaskalaphos]

𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬

𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐭.

[orchardofaskalaphos]

what if i started posting my words

—but just the scraps.

the soul lies in discarded thought.

[orchardofaskalaphos]

i want to live in a world of October.

[orchardofaskalaphos]

give me a quiet space to pour out my thoughts and I’ll give you my soul in a puddling tsunami