HIS WRATH UNDOES THE WICKED.

will all the water in the ocean wash this blood from my hands? instead my hands will stain the seas scarlet, turning the green waters red.

[larmoyante]

I am not good. I am not virtuous. I am not sympathetic. I am not generous. I am merely and above all a creature of intense passionate feeling. I feel—everything. It is my genius. It burns me like fire.

Mary MacLane, I Await the Devil’s Coming (via larmoyante)

[lifeinpoetry]

You were born with a knife in your heart.

Bae Suah, from Nowhere to Be Found tr. Sora Kim-Russell (via lifeinpoetry)

[fuckyeahgrindeldore]

[valianteheart-blog]

fuckyeahgrindeldore:

grindeldore | vampire au

[thelovejournals]

I want a trouble-maker for a lover, Blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, Who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate, Who burns like fire on the rushing sea.

Rumi (via thelovejournals)

[caphieus]

Visit Original Link

10 / ∞ songs that make me happy

[deadaccount3859291939-deactivat]

Visit Original Link

[gentlenowhere]

Bastille - Icarus

Icarus is flying too close to the sun Icarus’s life, it has only just begun This is how it feels to take a fall Icarus is flying towards an early grave

[thelovejournals]

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Like a desert wanderer afraid of mirages, I gazed at my oasis, but he was real.

Laura Whitcomb, A Certain Slant of Light (via thelovejournals)

[lifeinpoetry]

The awful quiet in your heart is not the peace you were promised, not the trembling hush before a revelation, not a prelude to an earthquake, not God’s silence, but his breathlessness.

Traci Brimhall, from “Gnostic Fugue,” Our Lady of the Ruins (via lifeinpoetry)

[lifeinpoetry]

Say the body is a door. Say pain invites me to a darkness where I am the only guest.

Traci Brimhall, from “The Needful Animal,” Our Lady of the Ruins (via lifeinpoetry)

[extramadness]

[lifeinpoetry]

When I’d first loved him, I wanted to take him apart, as a child dismembers a clockwork toy, to comprehend the inscrutable mechanics of its interior. I wanted to see him far more naked than he was with his clothes off.

Angela Carter, from “Flesh and the Mirror,” Burning Your Boats: The Collected Short Stories (via lifeinpoetry)

[lifeinpoetry]

You run in me a tang of salt in the creek waters of my blood, you sing in my mind like wine.

Marge Piercy, from “My mother’s body,” My Mother’s Body (via lifeinpoetry)

[lifeinpoetry]

You are beauty to me… Not only sensuous beauty that pleases the eye but artistic beauty that challenges it. Sometimes you are ugly in your beauty, magnificently ugly and you frighten me for all the right reasons.

Jeanette Winterson, from “The Poetics of Sex,” The World and Other Places (via lifeinpoetry)

[lifeinpoetry]

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

William Ernest Henley, from “Invictus” (via lifeinpoetry)

[balloonies]

by Muga Miyahara

[tootyfrootycasbooty]

because while Icarus sank and drowned, you finally rose to the surface

[evergreenwords]

I am a savage. Couldn’t you tell? I warned you I’m part heaven and equal parts hell.

s.z (I Am Not To Blame)