writing by candlelight

nb | xi | any pronouns(t/t pref)

[theorchidsmith]

maybe, in another lifetime, we could’ve been longer lovers,

but for now, i’ll just cherish the time we have spent together and all that’s left.

[theorchidsmith]

a long forgotten excerpt on longing for an escapism where digital ensembles fight my greatest fears

—————————————————

the softest notes, trembling fears

ends of worlds approaching near.

uttering whispers so silence will be more cherished

wash away all emotions through perished...

songs.

through boundless walls and towers tall

sorrowful machines unravel all

fields of flowers burning bright

elegant strings weave moonlight

the final days bring albino snow

fresh and static, as a porcelain doll

[metamorphesque]

— Van Gogh, The Letters of Vincent van Gogh

[wedarkacademia]

[theorchidsmith]

my love, i see you and wish to weep, for the reality that my eyes are not graced by your body every second.

[theorchidsmith]

i would wish for you to be a part of my world, for you’ve already taken refuge in my mind.

[theorchidsmith]

i like haikus.

“cold steel strikes through wood

crying leaves in the distance

my virtue rings true”

[twinkdrama]

huge fan of lesbians actually

[theorchidsmith]

footpaths gently marking this earth with the memory of a person unforgettable.

even in the midst of my vagrant mind, it is made into a home for the idea of you.

i’d find my way to you as we are lost in the chaotic web of human existence

[theorchidsmith]

you’re so divine that even the gods would weep upon laying their eyes on you, for your beauty is unmatched.

[theorchidsmith]

my love, i wish i could whittle away the sadness in your soul into a sculpture of pure joy, for i adore the smile on your face and the warmth in your eyes.

and all you ask of me is patience, an easy task to oblige to.

you are so dear to me.

[metamorphesque]

— Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Véra 

[I love you. Infinitely and inexpressibly. I’ve woken up in the middle of the night and here I am writing this. My love, my happiness.]

[theorchidsmith]

the distance between us is as the breadth of the space between the stars, fostering a gnawing pit in my core and a sorrow behind my eyes.

[dasswerke]

[oglaighnaheireann]

Irish youth throws projectile at British soldiers during The Troubles in the north of ireland

1970

[metamorphesque]

I’m envious of poetry   for being more & better than I could ever be.

ode to my envy, chen chen

[metamorphesque]

Tokuriki Tomikichiro, Lake Kawaguchi (1950s)