Nature Within Her Palms

"He wraps my fingers around the knife.

he's so close.

The only barrier between us is this pointed silver weapon.

He whispers softly, inches away from my lips— "Kill or kiss."

He moves even more forward, if that is possible. His breathy words are hush of air on my lips "-the choice is yours."

My heart is hammering in my chest. His eyes hold mine captive, not leaving for a second.

He stares at me, so desperate—

I press the tip of the knife into his throat.

My shadow casts over him as his knees grow weaker, eventually sitting him on top of the bed. Thighs find themselves on either side of him.

Blood trickles where I've pressed the knife.

My lips brush his and I feel the electricity dominating his nerves. I do not flinch when I speak.

"Why not both?"

—Hana Malik

Would you read? Written when I was 12 so I'm considering dropping it.

"You've stopped me from jumping off a cliff— you're the reason I'm alive and talking. The reason I want to live. So yes, I'm very entitled to force you to sleep next to me instead of letting you overtake another government."

"This is why I avoid communicating with you on work mornings, Caroline."

I'm old? But I've been young for so many years how can you just take that away from me?

me completely by myself in my room: alright everybody just calm down

I feel as though my mind is barren. Like I can't produce more for my writing. Even the simplest of lines are starting to fascinate me now.

Writing was supposed to be therapeutic...

.. not this.

I hate how pretty I look when I cry.

More so, I hate how I love how wonderful my red nose , red cheeks, and slight swollen eyes make me look. All that makeup and I would never achieve this.

It's like my face is mocking me, you bloom here in sadness as you belong here in sadness.

I never understood people who stay in abusive relationships when they have access to leaving the relationship.

But when my head hit the pillow this night i made sure to not sleep on my right (even though thats my favourite sleeping position) because not sleeping on your back causes Asymmetry. Then I realised Beauty is like the abuser that everyone praises you for having. For being in a relationship with. Beauty is like the ‘Perfect spouse’ that abuses you when no ones watching, the spouse that causes people to say shallow remarks “you’re such a lucky one for having this person” like you’re nothing without them. when really all the spouse does is hurts you where you can hide it and beautifies you where they can be praised for it. what are you without that spouse? What will you do, even if your life is peaceful if you’re not special anymore without your abusive accessory?

What will you do without beauty?

"Surely happiness should come naturally rather than being squeezed from the soul like the last drop of toothpaste from a tube."

—Reality Transurfing Steps I-V by Vadim Zeland

"You can't be a lurker on tumblr." Yes, you absolutely can. I've been quietly reblogging things since 2014 and I haven't interacted with anyone in years.

Sometimes I wonder if I should delete this Blog when I get famous. It wouldn't be appropriate for a famous author to have a tumblr, right? What do yall think?

Or i could just go anonymous and this could be wll thats left of me <333