Simone De Beauvoir, From "Inseraparable: A Never Before Published Novel,"

done healing my inner child. next up is my inner teen. her highness demands a sword.

bitch you better not be sitting and staring at your old wounds forever wtf

Richard Jackson, from "Silences"

Linda Friesen 'The Stardust 2.0 version' Haute Couture Gown

the trees you grew up with have not forgotten you. their branches still whisper your name in the breeze and their roots remember the paths your feet once traced through their shade.

Frida Kahlo, from a letter wr. c. November 1933, featured in The Letters of Frida Kahlo: Cartas Apasionadas

Apricity (n.) — the warmth of the sun in winter, a subtle warmth that kisses the skin with a softness unexpected in the season's chill.

fatigue, 2024

Dudddde what if we were foils and you were beautiful and i was ugly and you have revolution in your eyes and i believe in nothing and you chastely drop your eyes at all things that were not the republic and i stare fixedly at all women and you were absolute in your ideas and i was shapeless and you pitied me and i venerated you and you scorned me and i admired you and you disdained me and i loved you. What if in the presence of you i became someone once more, what if i was charmed by your chaste, healthy, firm, upright, hard, candid nature without me being clearly aware of it and without the idea of explaining it to myself occurring, what if i had need of you, what if i were your unaccepted pylades what if bro can you hear me

kaveh akbar, 'calling a wolf a wolf' // doc luben, 'love letters or suicide notes' // @/nutnoce, tumblr // 'my body's made of crushed little stars', mitski // @/ojibwa, tumblr // 'spring', mary oliver