abhorrenette

[abhorrenette]

concept: we’re all walking sadly in the silver strawberries. everything is high and no one is illuminated.

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si·de·re·al

/ˌsīˈdirēəl/

adjective pertaining to the distant stars.

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mel·lif·lu·ous

/məˈliflo͞oəs/

adjective

(pertaining to voices or words) sweet and pleasant to hear.

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The last time I called upon the name of the Lord, I was a shrine and a girl knelt before me worshipping the gap in between my thighs and we scream His name, o God, o God, in harmony like the angels’ singing.    I haven’t prayed in years; my father is disappointed, my mother weeps silently for me. But tonight I found myself bargaining with God: I shall believe in Him again only if He lets her return to me.

 kabalintunaan // i will wrestle with an angel if i have to (via kabalintunaan)

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a house, with its knock knock wooden doorframes windows have not looked anyone in the eye for a very long time there are whispers in the walls and something is on the roof but nothing has seen through those windows be careful when you do, it may startle the glass

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concept: me, singing alone in a leering strawberries. everything looks green. i’m not joyless at all

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in which what is grotesque must be pretty

why

are they all choking on blooms & coughing up pistils?

(it’s some sort of floral asphyxiation fixation)

why

so lovely to hurt

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now that June has come

i. Violets.

I sit in a meadow of valley violets, pretending the shades of our history could somehow be dyed differently, brightly, maybe I could have rained in the desert, cultivated lavender instead, but I like it dry, and warm. And there are many other reasons why we are no longer friends.

ii. Curtain Call

Four months. You knew we had four months. Four months to be fast friends, to laugh like lilacs leaning in wind. There shouldn’t have been a single “What if”. We knew how this would end. We met every other deadline with finesse, why did April burn us?  Why did May cut a line so deep between us, we could fall through and never land? Why did you believe there existed a foundation to build on When I was afraid to fall?

iii. Borders

There were lines drawn on me from long before we met, marking un-treaded waters, and un-explored lands. These were not challenges; heroines need not trek here to find glory or love. My body is not a fortress to be conquered. I was neither a damsel seeking salvation, nor a desolate ruler, harsh at every turn. I hid nothing from the sun that thrived in light. Many lines I allowed you to cross because I did not understand that lines crossed by friends are still trespasses.

iv. Family photographs

You look at old photos of the two of us on the riverfront, Cambridge on the other side, reflecting in the water And it reminds you of presence. Summer loomed in the middle distance, trickling into budding blossoms and newly birthed younglings. I’m reminded of my own yearnings to be somewhere else.

v. wearing her clothes

I gave you old sweaters, styles I had out grown. Old clothes that smelt of cigarettes, when you knew I did not smoke. There are many reasons why we are not friends.

[abhorrenette]

see me, loosening knuckle by knuckle see me, dripping the stars onto the page see fingers, trembling, parting the blinds for a quick glance- just to make sure see a stomach full see the soles of my feet have softened see legs that are logs with roots and bark see eyes that, at last, make love with nature see the skin with scorch marks see the crescent moon in soft pink nail bed see all lips shine see the snake inside that is a spine see me, pouring light so fast the spine almost melts see me, finally opening my aching fists

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concept: me, unlocking on the moon, surrounded by shadow. stench sees nearby. memories is nowhere to be seen

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A story about the sky.

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last spread!

pg. 393 - 394

(x)

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You are here. It’s all I need And more than I can dream.

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This is what happens when you open your palms: the sand slips through the spaces like crevices on rocks. This unholy feeling, this lust consumes you like the sun takes the oceans under its belt. You open your mouth and wisps of fire blow out, and everything you kiss turns to ash. Oh how you kiss. The devil’s in the details, don’t you know? Your tongue stokes a blaze so hot you can’t keep your throat under control and so your screams fill the rooms of the house your fantasies built; the bedchambers of your children, the garage door, the little things you’ve collected will all go up; a fireworks kind of love. Why do you destroy everything you love? Tell me if I’m wrong but somehow every relationship turns into a contest of who gets to leave first. And I’m standing here in a stadium of my own failures holding the cup of broken hearts.

A love like lost causes by aye rah (via rained-onparade)

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LANA DEL REY PROMPTS??? (if that's a thing? because it should be a thing)

prompts i came up with when i listened to my fav. songs :’)

sitting on the kitchen counter legs spread / dirty dancing / cherry pie & bruised throat / nike duffel bag full of cash // florida kilos

driving in a black porsche / ghost of a man in a suit kissing your neck / criminal history // blackest day

california coast / watching your lover from above / he’s floating in the motel pool / palm trees // west coast

road trip across western america / skinny dipping in moonlight // driving in cars with boys

running in the streets in a neighborhood in virginia / cicada sounds / dreamiest summer // national anthem

end credits / black dress / marseilles // black beauty

police cars surrounding your ranch house in the suburbs / gun under the bed / hot day no air conditioning // ultraviolence

lanadelrey

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I have had a man hand me a knife for resolution I have run to the highest mountaintop for absolution I have slept more hours than I can dream

all this talk of pentameter and trochee nature and the sea I speak through the prominent blue vein on my chest and the way my wrists look like transparency

all boiling down to this— as if the body don’t exist when he’s not touching you

as if the light stop filling the scar on your lip

—Venetta Octavia, as if the sun stop shining

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I hope you find somebody who makes your heart sing the way you made mine.

E. Grin, i miss you already. (via written-in-pen)