More Season Three Spencer Bc He Makes Me Wanna Sob My Eyes Out!! Cool!

m.edwards // quote by sue zhao // as it was - harry styles // i wrote this for you by lain s. thomas // november for beginners by rita dove // “seizure” by louise glück // right where you left me - taylor swift // quote by evelyn waugh // the handmaid's tale by margaret atwood

Stained glass 💕

I know my sadness will pass if I do not cling to it so tightly

@heavensghost / there are so many ghosts at my spot - karmin verdi / no choir - florence + the machine / a softer world / ? / Holly Warburton/ @teashoesandhair / ? / Faces in the Crowd - Luiselli (tr. MacSweeney)

I imagine a different life and know it could not exist, know it is incomparable, and consider it anyway.

There is a life in which I finish the chemistry lesson without interruption. I celebrate Christmas, my 12th birthday, and I see my dad again. In another life I meet him as an adult with knowledge and perspective. Maybe we talk, maybe we don’t. He would be alive. Anger fades at the sound of a beating heart. It is enough. I tell him I missed him, he asks what for. He says he’s sorry, and I am too. We laugh or argue and in both I hear his voice, so old and new. I would know him. He knows me. Both chairs are warm, and mirrored eyes are no longer alone. He’s there and it’s real, and he’s not as tall as I remembered.

Empathy stands on a mountain of grief; childhood by the lake. He reanimates. His hair, his eyes, an unharmed body. The words are mine. And he is not him. He exists as I tell him, his life in my hands, and as memory fails his image shifts. I will never remember as much as I wish I could.

In this life I wake up and he is still dead. His eyes are unblinking, his ashes are cold. His voice is faint. I shake her brain to remember again and she is a child and she is scared. I hold her and I am me. Seven years are infinite and small. My dad scatters, fragmented and whole. And where he does not, grief remains.

In a life where anything can be heard, I tell him I love him, and he knows.

Michael A Davenport, 3,090 Degrees Fahrenheit (Oil on canvas, 2025)

30in x 48in

@werewolfest // angela carter unicorn: the poetry of angela carter

kofi

Wordy by aavfvl