“Saintliness Is The Negation Of Life Through Heavenly Hysteria. How Does One Negate Life? Through Uninterrupted

RENÉ MAGRITTE / THE PORTRAIT / 1935 [oil on canvas | 28 7/8 x 19 7/8″]

“I like to bite my lips till they bleed, so when you kiss me you'll never forget how bittersweet they are”

– Devon (c.l)

Midnight Mass - Book IV: Lamentations

The sound of silence

Work by : Ivan alifan jdandu 1989

I leave you on seen because I don't have the emotional energy to say anything back without feeling like it's the wrong reply but I'm crying into my pillow begging you to keep messaging me anyways so we both know we're still both here. That's flirting, right?

Romance in the shadows of our daydreams

Anger Is Heat

It starts as a spark, a flicker. It start as a glimpse. For only a moment, the darkness is seized. For only a moment.

Then

Another strike of the match and the room bursts into flames.

Ever corner. Every crevice. Light spreads like a disease.

It's cool, touchable almost- at first. It dances atop your fingertips.

You could extinguish it easily, a simple breath could end it. You should blow it out now.

And then it is warm.

It is the heat of a summer's day. Next it is the steam of a kettle. Within seconds it is the flame of candle.

And then it's the sun.

It burns everything it touches, dressing you in charcoal, leaving you steaming.

Destruction.

Damage.

You opened that window and that fire spread. Sucked out into the fresh air. The cool air.

You should have blown it out.

You can't take back the burns. The scars. The pain. You can't take back the fire.

You can't take back the heat.

Service, oil painting by Konstantin Korobov

Sucks to be you, but can't relate

nobody has bitten my neck this october and that is frustrating