i'll give you everything. / gazaesims.com/
love, mirova.
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I am jealous of your flesh, how it clings so tightly to your bones. That should be me. That should be me.
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I love you. I say your name all the time when youāre not around just to put more of you in the world.
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Then I understood the true fate of Orpheus, / That love is a constant terror of loss.
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I love you. I say your name all the time when youāre not around just to put more of you in the world.
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You touch my face with forgiveness and I burn with a thing I still have no name for.
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I was carving my name into your side and you were calling me soft, calling me gentle. I do not think you were paying attention.
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I have my father's nose and all his rage, but I have my mother's face and her grief. Rage, I have learned to wear. My mother's grief, however, folds my spine and lives beneath my ribs. It gets heavier and heavier.
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Be! Be! The past is dead, Tomorrow is not born. Be today! Today! Be with every nerve, With every fibre, with every drop of your red blood! Be! Be!
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Being a person didn't come naturally to me the way it seemed to for others. People who were sure of themselves awed me. I studied them and tried to mimic their ease.
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I don't want to beg. I know you can feel it, my longing, the aching, my need for love. I don't want to beg. But oh godā Oh god, please. Please. Love me. Love me.
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(..) Love, for you / is larger than the usual romantic love. It's like a religion. It's / terrifying.
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Please, remember me. Think of me fondly. And know that Iām sorryā that Iāll always be sorry.
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Iāll rewrite this whole life and this time thereāll be so much love, you wonāt be able to see beyond it.
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I am eternally, devastatingly romantic, and I thought people would see it because āromanticā doesnāt mean āsugary.ā Itās dark and tormented ā the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you canāt attain.
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You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile, the world goes on.
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I love you. I say your name all the time when youāre not around just to put more of you in the world.
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..him pressing against me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.
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Before I die, I want to be somebody's favourite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.
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To say we were 'in love', that vague weakened phrase, cannot express it. We loved each other, we lived in each other, through each other, by each other. We were each other.
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Hatred would have been easier. With hatred, I would have known what to do. Hatred is clear, metallic, one-handed, unwavering; unlike love.
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You kiss the back of my legs and I want to cry. Only / the sun has come this close, only the sun.
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hello dearest readers. apologies, but i do not plan on paying twitter for any of their services upon the new update this coming february 9th. this bot will continue to stay up after the fact, of course, but iām afraid this may be where we have to say goodbye ):
Starting February 9, we will no longer support free access to the Twitter API, both v2 and v1.1. A paid basic tier will be available instead š§µ
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My father is a good man. Sort of. He is good when I compare him to His own father, and thatās enough. I hope. My father and I are more alike than Iād care to admit, and whenever I feel Pure rage, I know I am my fatherās daughter.
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How beautiful you are. Your beauty terrifies me. I hunger for you. I thirst for you.
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Everything is more beautiful because weāre doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.
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Iāll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting.
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When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.
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My feelings for you are biblical; that is they are intense, reckless, arrogant, risky and unconcerned with the way of the world. I flaunt my bleeding wounds, madden with my certainty.
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Iām tired, canāt think of anything and want only to lay my face in your lap, feel your hand on my head and remain like that through all eternity.
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I choked / on such longing I couldnāt spit out. Yes, desire is so different / when God bore you hungry.
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I long for you; I who usually longs without longing, as though I am unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of you.
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Once someone touched my jaw so softly I cried. Once someone held my hand so lightly I weptā
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I wanted to be loved so desperately, that my fingers shook with it. I am not beautiful but I could be.
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I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.
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I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times .. In life after life, in age after age, forever.
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Yours
(now I'm even losing my name ā it was getting shorter and shorter all the time and is now: Yours)
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Heās a despicable man; but I know him otherwise. I know his soul, and I know that we resemble each other.
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A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
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Iām tired, canāt think of anything and want only to lay my face in your lap, feel your hand on my head and remain like that through all eternity.
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ORPHEUS: How will you remember?
EURYDICE: That I love you?
ORPHEUS: Yes.
EURYDICE: That's easy. I can't help it.
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When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.
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..him pressing against me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.
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I love you. I say your name all the time when youāre not around just to put more of you in the world.
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