She Is The Spit I Cannot Swallow The Air I Cannot Breathe Her Touch So Far From Me Leaving Me Violent

i look at her and to put it simply, i see my muse for the first time looking right back at me.

Bothersome beast, comforting friend

“You sleep coiled; tightly wound. Hands are fists beneath pillows, clenched above cotton sheets. You are at war, even in your dreams.”

— Rest Achilles, the world will wait | p.d (via p.d vulpe)

— “suddenly it’s december”, margaux paul

Bones and All (2022) // dir. Luca Guadagnino

Art by Matteo Moni

When you cycled by, Here began all my dreams

The saddest thing I've ever seen

And you never knew, How much I really liked you

Because I never even told you, Oh, and I meant to

Are you still there or have you moved away?

Or have you moved away?

back to the old house - the smiths

“When I was five, I burned my hand on the stove my mother never warned me not to touch. Wrapping my hand in bandages, she told me “You’re a leo, your soul seeks the warmth.” All I understand then, was pain. My mother was born in the late fifties, an immigrant to this country, and she believed in the power of the stars alignment. It wasn’t the first time, nor would be the last my zodiac became the cause and not the effect of her neglect. I broke my ankle, when I was seven, jumping from my dresser. Convinced with my sheets wrapped around my neck, that I could fly. My mother whispered into my hair as I cried, “You forgot the feathers, child.” With a cast on my leg, and a faded scar upon my palm, I listened to her soft voice, with the accent she tried so desperately to hide, tell my favorite story. Of a boy ruled by the sun, burned by the things he could never touch. Icarus must have been born a leo, too.”

— and his mother, the sun | p.d (via p.d vulpe)

Ever since I was a little girl I’ve loved information

in case you forgot it