They call you a monster with a sneer on their lips like just the thought of you is bitter. They say it with a grin of fake fondness, a joke that you’ve never laughed at. They say it and it doesn’t bother you. Nothing bothers you anymore.
You were a child once. You were a child with golden hair and wide, hazel eyes full with excitement and wonder. Once you wore a smile on your mouth that wasn’t twisted by madness; it was easy and joyful because the world hadn’t crumbled in on you yet. You were sunshine and warmth before they stripped you of your youthful innocence and left you raw and hurting.
You think about how you’ve always had more tears on your cheeks than a smile gracing your lips. You think about how you know the taste of blood in your mouth, the crunch of your own broken bones, the raw flame of being torn apart from the inside out. You wish you could forget.
You’ve been screaming since you were small and you’ve never stopped.
They think it’s a war cry and you don’t tell them differently.
You’ve torn yourself into pieces to try and keep people who don’t want you. You’re used to the ache of broken promises, familiar and old as time. You do not break your promises. You expect others always do.
You were gentle once. A baby bird had fallen from a tree and you placed it in a shoe box. You couldn’t leave it because it’s helpless cries reminded you too much of yourself. You stroked its tiny head and nursed it back to health and set it free. It flew away and you were jealous. You’d been wishing you had wings for years.
You are too much and the world hates it. You hate it too. There’s too much feeling in your chest for your brother, for your cousin, for two boys who trust you to protect your lives and all you can think is “I will do for you what I cannot do for me”.
You keep your promises and you bury your pain. You let them call you monster because it’s easier. You let them call you soulless because it’s easier. You would much rather see their hatred than the pity you know would come in it’s stead.
-you’re not a monster, you’re a shield, c.k.b.
Lavender: Name something that relaxes you.
Polaroid: Post a picture that makes you feel good about yourself.
Vinyl: What is some of your favorite music?
Incense: List your three favorite scents.
Roots: How do you ground yourself or recharge?
Silk Sheets: Any ways you treat or spoil yourself?
Paintbrushes: Do you have a creative past-time?
Scars: Share something difficult you've been through.
Rainstorms: What helps you fall asleep?
Bones: Name one strength and one weakness.
Teacups: Favorite beverages?
Sealing Wax: Have you ever received a letter or written one to someone else?
Dragons: What makes you feel powerful, what breathes life into you?
Soup: Comfort food?
The Moon: What's your favorite thing to do at night?
Klosh: If you could go back to any three era's what would they be?
Lace: Your favorite things to wear?
Pocketwatch: If you could be immortal or have an extremely long life span what would you pick and why?
Honeybee: Name something positive you have done for yourself or someone else in the last two weeks.
Typewriter: If you had to come up with ten words to describe your life story so far, what would they be?
Blue Hair Dye: One thing you like about your appearance?
Felines: Something that makes you feel better after a hard day?
Poetry: If you have one, name a favorite book or poem.
by Angela Moulton
A lovely couple I saw in a cafe.
moodboard: seasonal!edmund (autumn)
autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence. - yoko ono
There's people for whom "we're leaving in the morning" means "we ride at dawn motherfuckers, you can finish waking up and getting dressed in the car, we'll grab breakfast somewhere along the way", and there's people for whom it means "we'll get going somewhere before noon".
And then they get married.