MUSING / Micolash - Tumblr Posts
“I was holding in my hand, against my lips, not a piece of fruit, not a piece of bitter, half-eaten fruit, but the still warm and almost beating heart of some holy being—just lifted from the dead body. And the heart was heavy. And wet. And it smelled as it would smell forever. Of myrrh. And burning blood. And gold.”
— Brigit Pegeen Kelly, ‘The Orchard’
Like a sieve being dragged through your brain. Like stitches through all your nerves. Like becoming unmoored.
there's something so compelling to me about the fact that sometimes leaving a blade or bullet inside the wound it made is the only way to prevent you from bleeding to death. something about the ironic symbolism of it. when the thing designed and intended to kill you is the only thing keeping you alive.
find the part where the wall is softest, the part where it gives under pressure, and dig your hand in. tear the film open to reveal its shining core. clear the shadow in the room, clear the smoke. leave the dream.
To Be Haunted, Jessie Lynn McMains
“I would die for you.”
“Yeah, but you won’t shut up for me, will you?”
you're not ascending to godhood you're just dehydrated