lost amongst the stars @the-masked-god - Tumblr Blog

imagerymoodboard

She transitions freely

From oxygen to the void

From woman to the moon

But not without pain

inspo @bewaretheclairbear archive

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snoopdogkaiwutang

whiteshuck

“In the thunder and night time it is just me and god.”

— Rebecca Tamás, from “Joan of Arc,” Savage (via lifeinpoetry)

neverkin

what’s the best way to die? easy. you forget your name, your friends, your family, your home. you forget your wings and teeth and blood. you’re stripped bare of everything that made you you, and are forced into the next life. you live among them, unaware and uncaring of what you were in a past life. you were divine. they loved you, they hated you, they feared you. you had teeth. you forget everything. everything everything everything until there’s nothing more to forget. they build you back up, reconstruct your bones and reroute your brain. they call you human.

but death isn’t the end. you remember. you find it in hymns behind closed doors, in sloppy confessions between friends, in the feeling you get when no one is watching and the world is in your hands. you scream “i remember who i was i remember who i was i remember who i am.”

what’s the best way to die? easy. by never doing it in the first place.

becomingsilent

in this life, the secrets of the universe unravel at her tongue-

quiet, dreary, morbid, like honey.

she speaks and god decides to follow her every word. she speaks, and the water retracts from the sand, swallowing deeper and deeper into the ocean until it comes back full force and engulfs the nation whole.

she speaks and the redwoods bend to her will.

i ask her,

i say “how could anyone possess the very heart of a god, so that she may bend or break the world with the dip and trill of her throat?”

she tells me “how could anyone deny me that which the world bends and breaks for? I’m beautiful,

and tall,

and beautiful,

how could anyone deny me a god?”

i say “the world would happily fall for you, die and kill and go to war for you; the ocean turns red for you, it takes back its depths and throws it at us; the weight of the earth buckles under the waves which buckle against your neck- all of this for you. how could you possess the very heart of the universe?”

she tells me “the ocean weeps at night for her lover, the moon god, across the blanket of the night sky. she longs for her, and throws hurricanes across the earth for her. in this life, the gods strike sky and break thunder, warring for the right to throw monsoons.”

“so?” i ask

“so,” she says, “in this life,

am I a god,

or a monsoon?”

|| GOD’S HANDLER -becoming silent ||