Grammatolatry

[fandom-trash-goblin]

i beg you to love me, say that i'm enough, but you tell me— why are you like this? i think there's something wrong with you.

for @shestrying

[moonlitfairytale]

Anne Sexton, A Self-Portrait in Letters

[funeral]

Christina Marie Brown, Bloat

[luthienne]

[iamcon-fu-sion]

if i set my teeth into the flesh of your arm and rest there know that i do not mean to tear it away only to latch myself onto you in some more permanent way

i feel your blood on my tongue but do not fear the hunger in my eyes i am a wild thing at best and my love is a violent guest

[metamorphesque]

— Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice

[promqueendyke]

aleksandra waliszewska // yves olade // joy priest, horsepower // richard siken, wishbone

[julyhighcry]

to want and be wanted

georges bataille / emily palermo / olivia laing / @chaandajaan / georges bataille / cj hauser / @kvetchkween / @nicholasbraungf / vi khi nao / silas denver melvin

[lunamonchtuna]

— Amal El-Mohtar, from This Is How You Lose the Time War (via lunamonchtuna)

[flowerytale]

Lord Byron, from “She Walks in Beauty”

[promptsformetoremember]

“reasons not to kiss her 1.) this sort of love is not allowed. you are both too soft, and the world around you is all knives and chipped teeth 2.) no one ever taught you how to love. your war paint and scarred hands could never hold her like she deserves 3.) no one has ever loved you this full surely you would drown in it all 4.) she belongs in a museum, and you are merely here to gaze. look around you, all the signs scream ‘do not touch’ 5.) she touches you like youre fragile, and if you break you wont be able put yourself together again 6.) she is all bubblegum skies and chapped stick kisses, and you cannot watch the love run out of another persons eyes 7.) if you jump, she might catch you, and then youd have to watch as she tumbled through the dark 8.) her gaze is too gentle. you will not be the one to tell her that not everything can be fixed with a smile 9.) she is so good. she is so good, and you cannot ruin one more good thing 10.) you will not watch her crumble under the weight of your sins. she is too light, too breathless to be caught up in the dizziness of your heart reasons to kiss her 1.) she loves you, and her eyes are closed, and didnt your mother ever tell you not to leave a good thing waiting”

— lessons in listening to your heart, and not your head (via generalmercer)

[inkskinned]

i have bundled up all my appetites and put them into my work and hid them perfectly. i will not take up too much space and i will not devour and i will not use my body as my own and i will not ask for more. i will accept the unacceptable as a pleasant and refined pain. 

i dream i will be sitting at a banquet and look over it and eat and eat and eat until my teeth fall out of my head. i take her into my hands and kiss her no matter how loud the nightmare gets. i do not move out of the way. i do not beg; i demand, and the demanding is unashamed.

in the mornings i worry my desire as borne of a famine. that it has become a weapon turned inwards, an insatiable hole of anger and dread. if i open that pit, it will never stop swallowing, will it?

my friend is drying her nails, shaking them in the air, considering their new color. “has it occurred to you that you can want something and actually deserve it. that all that built up need and want is actually fillable - but once you begin to fill, you will know what it feels like and you will want more. the way that you’re living is an obsession with control. “

but i know control. control is sort of beautiful in its execution. there is no sainthood in satisfaction, after all. the selfless feels safe. 

“self harm can be self denial”, my friend texts me. 

i pretend, suddenly, i cannot read.

[pridefulsuggestion]

do you rinse your teeth with blood, little one?

[wild-suggestion]

No, I bathe in it.

[jupiter-suggestion]

time passes too quickly. you lay down in the forest. “just five minutes,” you say to the trees. “five minutes to be alone. then i can get up and go on living.” you close your eyes. when you open them again the saplings around you have grown massive, and your hair has turned to moss. “you were gone too long,” the trees whisper. “they’ve forgotten all about you.”

[deadman-suggestions]

wasn’t there an artist here, once? someone who spoke of teeth and colours and the morning sun? weren’t their eyes bright and their hands open? didn’t they have books with pages and pages of life and emotion and tragedy and making it through despite it all? did they make it though, despite it all?

[relatablepoetryandquotes]

“Because the world is so full of death and horror, I try again and again to console my heart and pick the flowers that grow in the midst of hell.” - Hermann Hesse, Narcissus and Goldmund

[silversongsuggestion]

It hurts and I'm laughing like the time the branch broke under my bare feet and I tumbled, rough and ripped, to the ground.

And I'm laughing.

Because crying isnt so different but I'm tired of it.

Dear diary, I will not take the blame for the weakness of the branch. I understand I am the one who broke it. But I will not be responsible for how thin it grew.

Dear diary, I woke up and I made a hot cup of Chai and I looked out the window, and I didn't cry. And the squirrels fell from the tree, and they laughed I'm sure.

Dear diary, I laughed all day with them and I meant it.

We are responsible for the things we tame, the things we break, but I am not to blame for the fragility.

I just need to learn to hold things better.

Or maybe just not at all,

Because then I don't drop them.