#ughcap

[steebucks]

The Moon is a delirious monster that tries to crush our bones at night

Tries to suffocate us with the reverberating remembrance of past deeds and vicious follies and

These irises dilate closer towards the edge of extinction while we try to tear ourselves away from that omniscient and blindingly cruel glow only to find our muscles have forgotten what it means to be alive

What does it mean to have a purpose in life?

Why do foxes chase after themselves and why are teenagers so often the only ones turning into Orpheus–has the temptation of instant gratification grown too sweet on the tongues of adults?

We want to know why we are alive, yet to do that we have to realize that life is meaningless and soon we will all be devoured by the repetition of the mundane;

Quiet figures try to silence our minds but we have spent too long undoing the stitches from our lips to let them violate our homilies

—when the blood moon comes, don't try to run | a.h

[steebucks]

Imagine that Icarus didn’t fall. That Apollo heard the cries of his lover and caught his hand just in time. We would have two suns in the sky, curling around each other in fierce adoration and burning with the merciless vigor of love.

Imagine the loss the ocean felt when she watched from a distance, longing lacing around her heart and regret tearing through her throat. In a jealous rage, the ocean would make the world end. In less than a minute she would flood the coast and sweep inland, with the heat of her fury evaporating the ocean spray. Only the return of Icarus to her embrace would dissipate her wrath and spare the lives of mortals.

Imagine that Apollo, like any other god, is selfish to a fault. He craves worship and the sweet words of his lover won’t be enough for eternity. Icarus would eventually fade and crumble between his fingers, and Apollo knows this. With a sorrowful excuse dripping off his lips, he lets Icarus slip from him like the wax melting beneath his hands.

Imagine the receding waves that reached up to meet Icarus’ anguished screams as he fell away from his lover. While his tears sizzled on the still-hot wax of his burnt wings, reeking of betrayal and absent abandon, he cursed the gods and pitied those who worshiped them.

—No matter what variation the myth takes on, the fall is inevitable, and somehow it’s more heartbreaking that way | a.h

[steebucks]

We know we are living because we bleed, And we know we are breathing because it hurts

unfinished poems (iii) | a.h

[steebucks]

April showers, calm your sorrows. Wipe your tears and hide your fears; Though only beauty comes from your pain, More would bloom with only rain. In constant repress, the still sun shines; If only to see your laughter lines.

Ode to spring | a.h

[steebucks]

You fell in love with a blistering sun and forgot to cry out when your lips became singed with pain Oh, you wanted to devour that love whole and have it illuminate all the darkest parts of you But it would only burn you alive to have that kind of fire running through your veins. Forget all the stories written about Icarus—forget the tragedy, Kiss Apollo on the lips and drink in all the heat that radiates from that touch As your eyes start to water and his hands start to wander, Let the tears travel down the length of your face and create the ocean into which you will fall (Then, only then will you have the strength to look Artemis in the eyes and tell her that her cold shoulder was freezing your heart. That you wept every night because the stars blanketed you in their vacant stares and you felt vulnerable without her arms around you. The phases of the moon were a disheartening reminder that she never liked falling asleep next to you, especially when she could be out in the woods finding her next kill.) You asked the artists to paint Apollo’s face as a wash of anguish as you slipped from his reach; Golden tears crystallizing in his eyes that would melt only when he forgets how softly you cradled his neck. It won’t matter anyways, by then the waves will have slid your body beneath a suffocating blanket of rolling blue, And you’ll have already forgotten the tremble of his breath against your skin Icarus’ love-struck daze stole his chance to say goodbye, and he begged to be able to as he plummeted to meet the ocean. You didn’t have anyone left to say goodbye to, so you accepted your fate with spread palms and tried not to think about just how much the impact would hurt.

History will stop repeating itself when mortals stop falling in love with gods and goddesses | a.h

[sleepybucky]

He was fire. You were ice. You always thought you'd be the flame, But you only ever learned how to burn cold. And you'd let that boy destroy you, over and over again.

consumed by the fire // k.s.

[sleepybucky]

Girls, we are wolves. We hide our fangs behind innocent smiles and red lipstick. Girls, we are dragons. Our voices carry the heat of our injustices and pain. Girls, we are fighters. Bullets and knives can pierce our skin but not our souls. Girls, we are human beings. We crack, we fall, and we bleed. But we always, always stand back up.

You can’t break us // k.s.

[steebucks]

thank you for letting me borrow your jacket, it kept me warm in a cold place

ig: ohbucky