each and every day
i am deeply mesmerised
by your honest eyes

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@thornianblue
each and every day
i am deeply mesmerised
by your honest eyes
it aches
crying till i bleed my eyes out.
it aches
as it pumps faster and faster.
it aches
and i saw it dissolve in the aether.
the raw scents of
petrichor and revolution
fuel our raging souls
and when the time comes and calls
i’ll drill with my eyes black holes in your necks
and write your names in red ink
on innocent white sheets of paper
just like you did
on those green fields.
Ordinary Spirits in Liminal Spaces
Eleanor loved to walk back and forth on the platforms at the train station. She loved bathing under a full moon in the cold sea water, where her tears would merge with the endless. She longs for something she does not even know and roams in the quietest streets at night. Yes, just like a ghost. A phantom, an undefined shape of a lady dressed in black in contrast with her uncanny pale skin. The only times when she is not tracing slow steps on the ground are when she comes in contact with the only element she feels like her own: water. She was once seen standing still on a bridge, staring at the gushing filthy river beneath her. No one seems to be able to read her mind. And yet she knows deep down, although she is a lonely one, she is not actually alone: there are other ordinary spirits inhabiting those liminal spaces. But her loneliness comes from not being able to recognise them, as they may take different shapes, unlike her vaguely woman-like ectoplasm.
Where are you, spirits? Can you hear me?
as you softly eat me in little bites
something crawling from within
it is devouring me from the sacral light
and it haunts me
it haunts me…
green roof of the church
glistening in the night rain
Moon setting for Sun
in a slither of non-land
among tears and kisses
lies my hysteria
corroding every cell of my body
and shrivelling my soul
it is Fear which, like
the hedgerow, excludes my sight
from new horizons
through your words
my heart was drowned
in the dark waters
of your sorrowful tears
and my soul still longs for you…
on one hand the distinct and pungent scent of tobacco.
on the other the sweet and mouth-watering scent of Aphrodite’s water.
stay safe because i like being alive at the same time as you.
The Solitary Walk by Hubert Robert
8.41 PM
to die now, here, would be such a sublime act
Hi 👋, My name is Mohammad, and I’m reaching out in a moment of desperate need. I’m a father of three young children living in Gaza, and we are caught in the midst of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here seems increasingly uncertain. 💔
I’ve launched a fundraising campaign with the goal of raising $40,000 to relocate my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future.
Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was terminated without explanation. However, I remain determined to keep fighting for my family’s safety and well-being. 🫶
If you could take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏
Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤️🩹
https://gofund.me/fd1faea2 🔗
Hi everyone! I am posting something different in hopes that, even if my community is small, Mohammed’s story can be spread and reach others.
If you can, donate to the link at the bottom of the question box; if not keep sharing his story! He is so close to his goal!
Thank you Mohammed for trusting me and I wish you the best for everything. Thank you, reader, for helping me spread the message. And, as always, FREE PALESTINE🇵🇸
To be seen is not to be loved. But to be loved is to be seen and understood completely.
as i pray the gods above for a sign,
my soul keeps craving
that feeling,
that oh-so-lovely feeling.
take over me