ATHENA: Is Not Laughing At Ones Enemies The Most Delightful Kind Of Laughter?

ATHENA: Is not laughing at one’s enemies the most delightful kind of laughter?

Ajax, Sophocles (via warpaintpeggy)

I was scared and I was scarred. And I don’t know which happened first.

isusulatkonalang  (via wnq-writers)

look, i want to find the square root / of your thighs.

Salma Deera,  Letters From Medea (via lifeinpoetry)

We’re a perfect match but darling matches burn.

(via rotttenpoetry-blog)

You can be dead inside and still shine, don’t you believe me? Just ask the stars.

VàZaki Nada (via aristotless)

Picture this: Two girls sitting on a roof under the stars, With a bottle by their side, Taking turns to sip its content. Picture this: One of them leans closer, The other can feel her warmth And her heart beats faster. Picture this: Her head on the other’s shoulder, Listening to her fast heartbeat Waiting for her to say something. For once, Please say something. Picture this: She looks into her hard eyes And tries to find any emotion That may lie under her eyelashes Waiting to be found. Waiting, waiting, never fading. Picture this: She leans closer once more, Closer, closer, closer- She can feel her breath upon hers, Wonders if the waiting will ever end And she makes it end. Picture this: Their lips touch, gently, tenderly She’s too afraid she’ll pull away So she restrains herself. The truth: She wants to kiss her with a burning passion But she’s afraid she’ll melt. She wants to tear her apart But she’s afraid she won’t be able to put her back together again. The truth: The other girl is waiting to be torn apart, Waiting for someone to burn her to ashes And she wants her to do it again and again. Picture this: They’re both burning with desire And they let it drive them for a change. The roof and the stars are a blur in their minds And they no longer know where each other end: They are one, and one they shall be until the end.

l.c. (via patloclus)