ghost-and-the-magpie

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

Hey yall I’m doing artfight! This is my first year and I’m very excited. My profile is ghost-and-the-magpie (shocking) if anyone wants to check it out!

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

Morning Elvis by Florence and the Machine is such a dramatic and metaphorical song, but after being stuck on vacation with an 102 degree fever, I have determined it is about Florence getting the flu on tour and being pissy about it.

“Told the band to leave without me, I’ll catch the next flight/and I’ll see you all with Elvis if I don’t survive the night” tell me those aren’t the words of someone who is passed out on a motel couch, throwing up in a bowl, and eternally bitter.

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

it's funny how after you play a character a piece of them gets stuck in your soul forever

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

Very late intro post!

Hey! You can call me ezra or ez or crow that’s up to your discretion. I use any pronouns and broadly identify as a lesbian.

Mostly going to be posting writing/rambles/reblogging things I like.

My main fandoms are:

- Theater (Hadestown, Wicked, Shakespeare, many others)

- MCU

- Dungeons and dragons

- Music (Hozier, Yaelokre, etc)

Find me on ao3 @ songbird_versus_rattlesnake but beware that most of the fics are old and not of the highest quality

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

in another life maybe we’re still seven years old and sitting in the grass by the fence out back of the school and maybe i have a scraped knee. maybe we’re laughing and maybe you’re missing your front teeth, maybe mom let my dye my hair kool-aid orange and it matches the plastic of slide. maybe we cartwheel ‘til we’re dizzy, maybe i still think i’m pretty, maybe we steal stalks from the sourgrass patch by the back gate.

in another life, maybe we’re still seven years old and i just asked you to be play little house on the prairie with me.

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

Greenland

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

home.

Comet Leonard

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

this was posted a few weeks ago but things have developed and i'd like it on my main now too so i am reblogging :)

poem by @ghost-and-the-magpie, shared here with their permission:

an angel is rolling the garbage cans out. it’s 96 degrees in the shade and he’s stopped to watch the sunset.

an angel is rolling the garbage cans out. he fiddles with the lock to the side gate with acrylic-stained fingers and his feathers would be catching on the splinters in the fence if he still had wings. he does not.

an angel is rolling the garbage cans out. it’s been a long day. he gazes up at the pink-lemonade clouds and wonders if they were ever home to him. he wonders if anyone is watching him watching.

an angel is rolling the garbage cans out. it smells like compost and heat and there’s cobwebs pasted to his palms and perhaps this is how caterpillars look at the sky. not that he will ever rearrange himself into a winged thing, but perhaps boys and bugs both creep down sun-warmed concrete and stare up up up into the blue. perhaps they both catch twilight in their mouths. perhaps they both crawl beneath summer skies in october and wonder if angels can exist without a god.

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

i cannot be the first person to post this here but i am going so fucking insane about the gaia music collective's one day choir singing wait for me. the opening harmonies are you KIDDING me

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

"gentle-eyed"

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

The ink bottle lying on your desk... begins to crawl away..???

[ghost-and-the-magpie]

"gentle-eyed"

and I know you’re flying by, but will you 

perch with me on the gutter for a while?

I swear the wolf is sleeping,

rushes in his coat, time dripping from his

teeth, I swear it all tastes of honey,

I swear I did not cry.