Endearments In Letters To Véra

book dedications are so tender here is this piece of art i made for an audience of thousands. but really every word is for you

Rainer Maria Rilke, Sonnets to Orpheus: First Part (XXV) (tr. J.B. Leishman)

writing prompts! all about night edition

hands are cold but feet unmoving, watching magic in the night

I didn’t mean to say it in my head and I didn’t mean to whisper it at night

it’s nearly night, frost creeping in on silent feet

it’s the song of night that draws me in

at night, when I’m alone, I look up and I can see the stars

a lantern far away glimmers and I can run away into the night

take me to a place in the middle of the night when the stars shine brighter as the sky turns slowly lighter

in the coolness of the night, send the shadows into flight

But as I’m walking forward, I’m walking into the night

in the heartland, where the night creeps in solemnly

you bought tomorrow and banished the night

if I ever think about you at night, if I whisper your name so soft

make a little more color in a lightened up night

and the night was upon us as the dark came creeping in, do you remember?

sometimes I dread the night, and feel so bitter

if the night can hold my hand and if the shadows are my friends I guess I’m alright

I can’t see the moon against the brightness of night

waiting for the light to untie night’s strings and the sky to come undone

the night was ebbing in and out like the sea

I am the power, I am the night

the past that haunts and fears that slide around in the back of my brain at night

like the closing of a story, the night rolls across the page

which is more lovely, the night or the day?

late night hurting, fever’s chill, I want a word, I need a will

let me stich your constellations onto the quilt of my night sky

I read between the lines when I can't write.!!😶

"What is stronger than the human heart Which shatters over and over and still lives."

the books I’ve read all make up the tiny pieces of my soul; to read them is to read into my heart

disquiet

A piece of me is always missing, Like the last block of lego that I can never seem to find One empty space right in the center of the jigsaw puzzle. I'm not sure if I lost it along the way. I'm not sure if I'm yet to find it. But lately, the gap seems more blatant. I'm anxious that it's visible to the people around me. That when they look at me, they see half a person. It's almost like I'm mimicking a being While I'm on the quest for the missing elements.

Sometimes, everything is wholesome! Golden skies, daisies, moongazing, Dusty libraries where ghosts of dead poets linger, Tight hugs, acts that mean "I'm thinking of you.", I look at my picture with my friends, smiling ear to ear And the jigsaw puzzle is complete. (or it was, then.) Some memories in me are so perfect that, The missing lego piece starts to feel like an extra piece From the table, you're trying to put together. It works fine without it, and there's nowhere to put it.

Then I'm back in my bed, back in my head. And I cannot remember how to be a whole person again I eat chocolate until I'm nauseated Or I never draw the curtains open and let the light flow through. I want to live life to the fullest, I never want to be seen in public again, I want all-consuming love, I want to believe I'm worthy of it, I want to feel complete when I'm alone, I want someone to feel complete with.

I want and I want and I want… Socrates said, (Yes, I went there) "He who is not contented with what he has, would not be contented with what he would like to have." What about, She who is never content with who she is? What about me?

Hufflepuff: alright we need a plan. Does anyone have any ideas?

Slytherin: *raises hand*

Hufflepuff: that DOESN’T involve murder

Slytherin: *slowly lowers hand*

Malyen Oretsev in Ruin and Rising (Leigh Bardugo)

on soulmates

f. scott fitzgerald / friedrich nietzsche / florence and the machine / andrea dworkin / kiersten white / euripides / audre lorde / phillip pullmann / bob hicok