I Am Somehow Clair De Lune, Gymnopédie No.1, Lacrimosa And Danse Macabre All At Once.

If I was ever given a book of classic poetry with handwritten annotations I would simply die

“The second half of a man’s life is made up of nothing but the habits he has accumulated during the first half.”

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Demons

Brother

TW: CSA

Tell me how does darkness feeds on an unsullied soul;

Am I the one to be blamed for your viciousness?

Or was it the gratuity of my parents' sins?

Or was it the ode of innocence that tempted you?

An ode you consumed.

You shredded me to ribbons so that you could use them

to tie the knots of your selfish yearnings;

Morphed me into an infernal machine in the pursuit

of your eternal fantasy.

Unbloomed; I was cradled in the soft bed of childhood

Yet, you stripped me away from that delectation;

And impelled me into the wretched abyss of unholiness.

Suffocated I was, as you took advantage of a frail heart,

and ruptured it from its hollow.

Yet I am the one they blame, I blame.

For being tainted, ruined.

Abhorrence filled in their gazes.

But, if to taint me is to ruin me, then let the gods be blamed for bestowing such wickedness on my existence,

For I was nothing but a child,

Slaughtered because of vulnerability and pestering naivety.

Tell me why does darkness feed on an unsullied soul, brother?

No one talks about the transition from being the girl everyone respected too much to come forward to and the girl that everyone desires. To feel like you are never someone's first choice, just a woman they would eventually settle for. To never be the girl they passionately, intensely ache for. To be the one they're afraid to taint. The one they will compromise with. To be the girl that becomes the mother of their child, but never their love.

And suddenly, suddenly you're the girl of their desires. The one with a free spirit and reckless behaviors and self-sabotaging actions. The one that hates herself so much, she throttles her own soul to fit an ideal image of what a man yearns for. To be savage and soft, simultaneously. To gaze at a man like a siren and never admit to being hurt.

No one talks about how you slowly feel both of these girls within you amalgamate. So achingly, so abruptly, you feel yourself spiralling out of control. You jump, face first, infront of a moving train, you wrench your heart inside of your chest. You swallow the thought of not being loved. There is a perpetual knock at the base of your mind of someone burning to come out, to be heard, to be felt, to be accepted.

You either become the trophy wife, or the girl they never wed. No one talks about girls like us.

That awkward moment when you’re like “ahhh that was grooming” ????

Half of the words I left unsaid could be heard if he could read my eyes.

and for my next trick i will now demonstrate just how many fucked up things a girl can have wrong with her at once!!

Source

style inspiration: @filmnoirsbian

this beauty and blood defies god

"Vesuvius" Amber Sparks // Carrie (1976) // "The Forbidden Wish" Jessica Khoury // Ginger Snaps (2000) // "Feminine Incarnate" Alexa Thorn // Sharp Objects (2018) // Belladonna of Sadness (1973) // The Witch (2015) // "The Virgin Suicides" Jeffrey Eugenides