Closed Starter For : @apirot

closed starter for : @apirot​

"   is that ...      real ?     "       she slowly but surely crawls   closer and closer  ,      wide mocha - eyes swiling with effervecent wonder ;   caught in something of a trance  ,    her sturdy legs unfold   &    carry forth with a will of their own  ,     though a shadow of fear doesn’t trail too far behind those cautious ,     mousy steps .   “   ------   it’s so pretty ...   ”

In spite of everything, I still believe people are really good at heart.

Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl (via perfectquote)

@confidcnces​​ asked :     ∗ o7﹕ sender  wraps  their  arms  around  a  hysterical  receiver  to  calm  them .   @dru bc i choose violence .

she smothers her sorrow   with hope ,      holding it    hostage   inside this gilded cage of a chest ;    but  the weight of the world is too heavy for a soul to carry alone ,       so it ravenously claws its way out  ,      tearing at the well of her     pale ,      untarnished throat that aches for release .    “   i couldn’t —      i…          i     couldn’t help   ,    i couldn’t do anything  !     "            do not crumble ,    do not crumble ;       she will repeat like a mantra  ,     praying those wobbly knees will someday ,    become a fortress  .      that she will never again be unmade by grief  .             "    why can’t i help anyone ...     "      anguished sobs   are quelled into another’s chest  ,       and she finds there is no rage inside ,     there is no   fire to spill ,       only water .    her crown of dark hair pours down their arms like    a splatter of black ink  ,     and her entire body shakes like a collapsing catedral ,  grabbing whatever nearest to squeeze between her fingers ,     in hopes it’d    swallow her whole  . 

cohmpton​.

[…]

It wasn’t the first time he’d been in the mud, remember. Bill had personally grown the blood inside of him and he had made sure it was chilled enough to pool out without harming his lifespan. The beast only lets out a soft grunt, a tuneless groan as he lays his back in the dirt. He’s enjoying the rain as it seeps into his fabric, leaves his overcoat soaked and brimming with a pink haze of his blood. Yes, this old body still knows how to die. Slowly too. Like a goddamn steam engine chugging to a final stop. The bullet is only dead weight, unfortunately, and he will wake tomorrow morning like he always does: listlessly mid-prayer, slightly broken, hollowed out and sagging. He shifts subtly, brings an elbow up to lean against. Bright eyes taking a glance down at the blooming wound. It was beautifully human, he supposes, to still look as fragile as any other ghost. The flesh will heal quickly, but the pain remains solidly profound amid the ache and tug of his torn skin. Hand brushes back his hair, wet and dripping from the weather. He glances around them, suspicious of where the bullet came from. It’s off-season for hunting, but they linger on lawless grounds. ‘Not your time, miss. Not your time.’ Barely a mumble of a response, chin working in a half-circle as he glances her over fully. Shameless in the way he observes that quaint view of panic in her eyes. Human to the very root. Not a god like him, certainly not something that is resurrected annually like a desperate cornstalk before June’s dry heat hits. Palm reaches down to rest against her own, the stickiness of his unnatural blood coating her knuckles. ‘I’ve died many times before[…]y’can’t worry yourself sick for me. It’ll heal.’

pandora has always loved storms ;    how primordial and unrelenting they are  ---  a beginning ,   an end .    everything in between .    there is no reason ,   no meaning  ,      there is only water /  the skies crack open and weep and make the earth shake so it understands its grief ,    and never once does it plea for forgiveness  .   she doesn’t flinch away from its cold embrace  ,      she lets herself be swallowed by it .   she is a girl made of dark corners and strange turns .     she is a girl full of heartache and poetry ,     loved most by the things others fear .     she has entwined her fingers with death ,     and it left her with a tender kiss ,     always lingering ,    hanging by a promise to return .       “   it’s a little late for that ...   should’ve thought to ask before you jumped in front of a bullet .    ”    in her raincoated body ,   flickering like a butterfly  — a black witch moth ,  she hovers above bill’s weary body ,    completely drenched ,   as if waiting for an invitation .   she’s so wet that it’s as if wetness seems to be her only response:   dewy lashes blinking rapidly ,      torpidness spreading through her fingertips .       she touches   to remind herself herself she is still here  ,     and lets herself be comforted by his gentle candor ,    his steadying grip ,    and forget about the blood washes away between her thighs  .    “    you make a habit of this ...?     ---- holding a girl’s hand while you die ?        ”      cold water trickles down the tip of long lashes like cream in a fox’s tongue ,     down to her button nose  ,     and the sweet cherry apples of her cheeks .     “     there’s easier way to get someone’s attention ,     you know?   ”     a wintry breeze whistles past the heavy pitter-patter of rain against pavement and she stifles a laughter between chattering teeth ,    still it echoes down those lonely streets :      a feeble attempt to soothe his ill temper ,   a flower of torn empathy that’d sprouted ,     against reason and hope ,   through this concrete jungle .

a lightweight when it comes to love.
someone new, hozier // interview with jeanette winterson // boy meets world // pure feeling, florence + the machine // welcome to nightvale // someone new, hozier // @inkskinned // exist for love, aurora

lost boy   ruth b.  |   unmade overtones   thom yorke.  |   shelter  porter robinson.  |  i know places  lykke li.  |  don’t kill my vibe  sigrid.  |   be kind  marshmello (ft halsey).   |  lights  vexento.  |   daydreamer  aurora.  |   haunt  echos.  |   smother  daughter.  |   the fixer  brent morgan.  |   saturn  sleeping at last.  |   queen of peace  florence + the machine.  |   dancing with your ghost  sasha alex sloan.  |    little boy in the grass  aurora.  |   soft to be strong  marina.  |   la la la naughty boy.  |   back to you  twin forks.  |    dance on the moon  aurora.  |   lucky  aurora.  |   the wisp sings  winter aid.  |   only if for a night  florence + the machine.  |   half way home  pines.  |   ?  dodie.  |   birdie  billie marten.  |   dance in the graveyards  delta rae.  |   the disapperance of the girl  phildel.  |   i of the storm  of monsters and men.  |   funeral bell  phildel.  |   sun  sleeping at last.  |   queendom (harp version)  aurora.

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