Haply will forget.

I'm Shannon and this is a blog for all the poetry, art and literature I love. 💕 I love mostly gothic/Romantic literature, but I post anything that catches my eye. 

[withpassion-withoutreason]

You said I killed you - haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe - I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!

Emily Brontë (Wuthering Heights)

[notapocketbeth-deactivated20190]

you: *speaks in prose*

me: *speaks in blank verse*

[whatever-oursouls-aremadeof]

Change of plan 💕

I changed degree course from Biology to English Literature. So this can be a study blog again! ❤️

[meetaclassybitch]

In school they teach you how to multiply 9x8 make you read Macbeth and have you memorize the first 10 amendments to the constitution. But they don’t teach you how to stop loving someone who has stopped loving you or how to deal with losing a friend to an unsaid goodbye and a relative to a cancer that ate away their brain. At home I learned from my father that alcohol can make as many problems as it solves but damn does it feel good to let my throat burn instead of my heart and to tune out the problems in my head that I just couldn’t solve. Because life isn’t 9x8 and it isn’t the way authors describe their characters in a story. It’s those nights you lay awake missing someone wishing things could be different and it’s the next day when you realize they can’t and then it’s how you pick yourself up after being down for so long. I taught myself that.

unknown (via meetaclassybitch)

[vinterblod-deactivated20190317]

[white-adrenaline]

[joinchapter]

[assusta-deactivated20170629]

[dark-recesses-of-the-soul]

☽ dark, horror, eerie, macabre ☾

[to-splinters]

Let me tell you about lost love                in the light of the afternoon the the moon curve      of his smile, a wretched thing. A thing melted, I thought I must have misheard               when they said your name on the radio - we talked that morning, over coffee, a coffin, your coffer, coughing between a cigarette                we love one another the way every bullet loves the place         where it enters the body so trade my silence for yours,                smoke, you took your coffee black, just another knot in the rope sound of your sipping               a chair kicked out from under       a set of feet, falling like a love affair lost in the fight.

Isaac Frank, “On ‘sleeping’” (via to-splinters)

[welcometogrouptherapy]

[golfjokes]

Why is this in my psychology text book

[whatever-oursouls-aremadeof]

The MCRmy permeates every field.

[whatever-oursouls-aremadeof]

October reading.

[gnossienne]

[hazeykatie2]

“Good-night, Dr. John; you are good, you are beautiful but you are not mine. Good-night, and God bless you!”

“Villette”, Charlotte Bronte (via hazeykatie2)

[diabolismos]

I felt the never-dying worm alive in my bosom, which allowed of no hope or consolation. […] Anguish and despair had penetrated into the core of my heart; I bore a hell within me which nothing could extinguish.

Mary Shelley, in Frankenstein. (via calice-de-ossos)

[agothicfiction]

agothicfiction:

Imagery of the gothic.