raven-n-tha-moonlight

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

Hey guys!

I’m going to be switching accounts! I found out that the school email I used to set up this account will be terminated when I graduate high school. There is a way to transfer emails, but that requires the old password which (whoops) I have misplaced. It’s a lot less hassle to just create a new account. Now, here is the tricky part. I will be starting with a fresh account with no followers. Please, please, please follow my new account, beauty-moon-poet. It’s a lot to ask, I know, since I haven’t been posting, but I promise I will start writing and posting again soon.

Thanks, everyone. I am truly honored that so many people found some kind of value in what I write. It means the world and over. Even if you choose not to follow my new account, I am truly honored that you chose to follow me here!

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

// I'll stop for you, I swear //

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

Hey guys.

I am really sorry to be so inactive. You all deserve better. I wish I could say it will get better, but this year is already so busy. It’s my junior year and I’m planning to go to college, so all my energy is going toward schoolwork and preparing for the ACT and PSAT. You guys are the best, you really are. I hope you all will forgive me for being largely inactive for this school year.

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

⛰mountain⛰

.

I’m going to climb a mountain of my dreams, someday The bottom of the alp is a tranquil spring Bubbly purple waters, warm haze and Love letters written on rocks Crayon drawings made on fungi Onlooking A winter city with dull lamps from duller homes illuminating a whole city, Moonshine sweat running down the sewers Indigo asphalt streaming like veins across Skyscrapers and streets The sky is cerulean, and koi fish zap by the The little red bridge, Giving the frozen river it’s first goosebumps I’m climbing a mountain of my dreams, Right now The first few feet high are a lush forest Red cottages hiding between dark barks in the distance The leaves rustle and hiss curses and Back pedal us by a foot The trees believe that if they whistle hard enough The could breathe sense into the tips of my fingertips Forgetting that true recognition lies with The borealis and the northern wind The fireflies and bustle down south The valley to the east and cacti to the West The deer with candles for antlers alert The koi fish who race to catch me when I fall I’m still climbing a mountain of my dreams Too high up to turn back The floors aren’t brown and green, but white and puffy The city gleams in the distance, the forests snicker The wind is running fast and grasps its sword a fencing match I never thought I would face For every time I’m thrown down further, I climb forward, the koi fish Once tangerine and milk, now bruised and blackening I move forward Now I’ve climbed a mountain of my dreams I’ve reached the top I’m finally taller than the world My feet are aching, my face flushed The koi fish are lining themselves alongside The sky’s traffic lights The cloud metropolis is merrier, Koi fish and the birds as seasonal citizens The sun ruffling their streets, the moon bidding goodbye, the stars blushing The mountain of my dreams is greater than the highest peak in the world, The mountain of my dreams has a view more beautiful than The prettiest Christmas lights or The happiest lone lily dancing with the moss My dreams don’t have a face, but they have a beating heart, lungs and a fire kindling within That’s enough to scar any forest in its path, To leave a future worth remembering The mountain of my dreams is an aspiration worth conquering It’s a memory worth cherishing The journey is worth relishing

.

-Aureatemoonshine

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

I don't understand why sometimes

I want to set your stage on fire

Watch your act burn,

Call me deceitful, call me a traitor

But when will you realize that

The play is over, the script is long finished

Sometimes I wake up in the mornings, in my home

(Correction: my house)

Inside of your room,

(you never let me leave, what else was I supposed to call it?)

And the sun feels different, like it were just some other star

My home

(Correction: my house)

is only pieces of paper, origami and paper mache,

Of newspapers coloured in red, gold and black

(Newspapers covering our perfect love,

Nothing but false truths cover our walls)

The windows are a lie, is what I told myself

It's as if all things coated in your dictatorship were yours to love, yours to cherish

(Is it really love?)

suitcases of cash, black folders and my body

I couldn't bring myself to enjoy your gray ivory touch

I couldn't bring myself to even be okay with it

(Why should I?)

My back bled from smashed alcohol bottles every night

You trace your lemon fingers

Red, red and only red

but you holding my neck stung more

You used to look at me, with faith in your eyes

We worshipped each other's bodies in transparent temples, eyes plastered at every crevice we left untouched

Our temple is foggier now, I wipe the walls down every day for it to become murkier

Those eyes that did not blink till their eyes gave out have now fallen into deep slumber

"Hush sweetheart"

(Don't tell me to be quiet when all you do is yell)

You say, we mustn't wake them up to see what you are doing to me

we must keep our perfect reputation of oblivion

I have chosen to drape my heart in

Bleach white curtains, pure and unadorned

anything to cover up my urn heart

Nothing flows through my veins,

your past selves ashes lie in my heart and rust whatever left of inside me

we won't stop standing on the stage

(If you could even call it a stage,

Just a pedestal held together by slaves we called our old love)

You pluck the petals they throw at us and stuff them in my mouth

(Just to shut me up, to stay quiet)

you check your watch, although you couldn't care enough for time

But with every passing breath, even though all that I exhaled was ashes and old memories

there may not be a single drop of hope, dripping out of our charcoal taps,

.

But

.

You will burn,

.

(All those that are cruel die at the end, but it's the villain that lives, it's the villain that holds the match, it's the villain that burns)

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

Blame X

You say you’re alone

That I left you

You say it’s my fault

That I changed

But if you’re looking for a culprit

It’s the mirror you should blame

Who was it

That claimed the yield

Of sowing done by two

Who was it

That abandoned

Her kin in quicksand

Who was it

That chased the stars

And left the world behind

Oh, dare to deny

But you’re trapped

In a mad house

Your stabbing fingers

Only point back at you

For years

You let the living

Drift away

While you chased

Whispers on the wind

And now

Your silver tongue

Has bought you

So many nice friends

Silver spoons line your walls

Yet your belly

Is hollow

You left behind

That which would sate you

Now do you know

The true price

Of your greed

And cruelty

Blame me if you wish

But you left me

Discarded me

Betrayed me

Your regrets won’t soften my heart

Don’t be sorry

For what you’ve done

If you only care

For the one

In the mirror

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

Her Cage

Walls are pressing in on my heart

Voices in my head preach loudly, tonight

The doubt and fear follow me

Driving white-hot nails into my skull

Have I wasted my time?

(You’ve wasted your time.)

Am I a fool for my dreams?

(You are a fool.)

Alone in the night, a girl’s breath flutters like a frantic bird

For she is trapped in the cage of her mind

(The theme for this week’s poetry challenge was overwhelming feelings. We had to write in 10 lines or less. Please let me know your feedback! I’d really appreciate it!)

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

Omg thanks!

@aureatestatic @uhm-raya @perfectgalaxybouquetuniverse @dragonsblowingoutbirthdaycandles @weirdo-sakshi-singh @lonceallivander @bewarethebitchbites @dragonflame7337 @kryskakikomi

And so many more!

tag your 10 most favourite people on tumblr (mutuals or not). you are also my favorite so i stat with you

Aww thank u!

@lily-chen-deserves-better @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @daisyherxndale @friendlyneighbourhoodreader @raccoon-dog-from-mercury @fairchild-blackthorn @morgnstern @matthewfaichild @brotherlipsmackariahs and honestly can I tag more?

@cecilyfightwood @mitsuhamiyamizi @bridgestocksariadne @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @tessagraycarstairs @simon-lewis-is-a-skinny-legend @alyssaswords

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

Hi! I just read your snippet on fae x human and loved it! I am writing a high fantasy story and don't feel like my writing is as good as it could be (I'm looking at you, writer's block). Description is a bit of a problem, too. Either too much or not enough. Do you have advice for an aspiring high fantasy author? Thank you for any advice on advance! :D

Describe the important, unusual details that the reader can’t fill in for themselves that they need to know - or if you are describing ordinary things, do it in such a way that shows the characters. 

For example, we all know what a door looks like so if you say someone opened a door, the only time more description is needed than to move the plot action along is if there is something unusual about the door. Is it particularly tiny or particularly big? Is it weirdly grand given its diminished surroundings? Is it at a door that the protagonist remembers knocking on many times before, but the bright blue paint has turned flaky and chipped with time. 

In fantasy, you probably have a shiny new world, but the reader won’t need to know every detail if it’s never going to come up in the story again. For many magical creatures, we also have a sense of what they might look like, so you probably won’t need more than a line to paint a picture unless the character or creature is important to the character/plot, or something that is more unusual in fantasy. For example, if you say ‘fairy’ it may be useful to do a quick description to make it clear what you mean, as there are many different kinds of fairies.

For characters, pick the detail that shows what the protagonist is noticing, otherwise you end up with a long list of characters with different eye colours and hair colours and no other distinguishing features. Do they have scars? Are they tall and intimidating, which would be a notable description if the protagonist is in a threatening situation etc. Do they strut? Which would suggest that the protagonist thinks they think too much of themselves. 

Characters the protagonist cares about/is interested in/should be described more. Generally, if your protagonist is observant they are going to be noticing things more based on where their attention is.

Remember to use a mix of the five senses - i.e, don’t describe everything visually, what can be heard or tasted or smelled is also important.  Does someone’s voice drop suddenly lower than before? Is it annoying in a way that people ignore what the character says even if they’re right? 

I hope this helps!

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

Half Sick of Shadows

For the kind people who asked :)

23:58

She hurtled through the trees, twigs and undergrowth crashing beneath her bare feet. Branches and bushes whipped cruelly at her arms, her legs, her cheek. She had a moment to be concerned that he would smell the coppery scent of her blood on the air. She had a larger moment to sincerely wish she’d thought to negotiate for a decent pair of running shoes – she’d just said running shoes, like an idiot, and he’d given her a smile and trainers that were four sizes too small.

Mostly, she did not have a moment at all. She needed as much of a head start as she could get.

She pushed her muscles to run faster still, burning through her adrenaline. Her heart slammed hard enough that she felt dizzy. Her breath came in quick, loud, ragged gasps.

The woods grew tall and thick and twisted in every direction around her; its canopy of leaves an impenetrable shield against the moonlight she had seen earlier. The darkness would have been absolute if not for the twinkling drops of silvery lights looped above her on black ropes, like someone had plucked all of the stars down for decoration.  

At least she’d remembered to ask for lights. Good lights. She’d heard a story about a boy who forgot to ask for lights. He didn’t last even five minutes after midnight.

It was not, in the modern age, considered proper for fae to hunt unwilling mortals for sport. There were diplomatic relations to consider. The game, the challenge, which had been devised in response was a deceptively simple one.

Mortals could choose to enter themselves for the hunt. If considered, they would then be whisked to the fairy kingdom on the night of the full moon, and given the opportunity to negotiate their terms with any fae willing to strike the bargain with them. If none were, no harm, no foul. But if they were…at 23:30, the human would be released on the edge of the forest which made up the border between their two realms. They would run.

If the human managed to cross over to the mortal world by dawn they would be free to leave the immortal kingdom. They would return to life, to sanity, with all of the bounties they had come looking for in the first place.  Some entered themselves into the hunt for a blessing, for enchanted wares, for a spell that might fix all their woes. Others still entered for power, for a precious herb that might save a loved one from great sickness, or great riches.

But, if they were caught…

Her mind flashed to the wicked-lovely eyes of her hunter, bright and hungry, and her stomach flipped.

The great clock struck twelve. The hunt began.

Well, if she was caught…to the victor, the spoils.

They were coming.

***

19:32

“I’ll take the deal,” the fae said. “I’ll take you.”

The laughter in the room cut silent, and she exhaled a shaky breath between her teeth. She steeled herself and turned to face the creature.

The room was filled with all different kinds of fairy; seelie and unseelie, summer court and winter; the monstrous and the beautiful, all wanting different things. He was beautiful. He was terrible. He was something sublime in the oldest sense of the word.

She swallowed hard, her mouth going a little dry. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

The fae looked her up and down, assessing, like he was figuring out exactly what he wanted. He seemed like he was taking her apart into a million different pieces in his brain and putting her back together all over again in the precise shape that he envisioned.

“Come, human��� he said. His voice was velvet, singsong and amused. He flashed her a sharp, playful grin and beckoned her with a crook of his finger. “Tell me everything your heart desires.”

She’d never told anyone that before.

***

12:01

The woods had turned against her. If the branches had been in the way before, now they actively moved to stop her progress. They stretched to create barricades, cage walls, blocking her way and forcing her to stumble back.

Her eyes widened. She felt, abruptly and distinctly, herded. She swore under her breath, considering her options. Maybe she should stand still out of stubborn spite? At least deny him the chase? No. She couldn’t afford to wait. Every minute brought her closer to dawn, and further away from the possibility of winning her wish.

“Shit.” She dragged a hand through her dark hair and tried to think.

She’d agreed that it was only fair for him to be allowed use of his own abilities, providing that he didn’t come after her on horse-back. She couldn’t outrun a horse. She’d thought she’d be perfectly capable of outrunning a tree, given that they generally didn’t move anywhere near as easily as horses.

Making it five minutes past midnight seemed a far more impressive feat than she’d allowed for. She couldn’t even accuse him of cheating.

She drew a knife, ready to slash her way through if she had to. She squared her shoulders, set her jaw and went down with an undignified yelp as a tree root ensnared her by the ankle and yanked.

***

12:13

The fae sauntered towards her with a really quite unfair, leisurely, grace. His footsteps were light, barely making a sound as he moved through the trees.

He stopped in front of her, looking her up and down, as if he had all of the time in the world.

“Comfortable?” the fae asked.

She glared back him, suspended vertically in mid-air between two trees in a harness comprised of the lights that she had, personally, insisted on. They wound tight around her wrists, pinning her arms and legs behind her back. She gave another tug at her restraints and, much like the last few times she had tried that, it did nothing. She was, well and truly, stuck.

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” she growled. “Did you enchant them before you even set them out?”

He hummed. His eyes, when they met hers, were intent. Dark. Predatory.

The growl died out in her throat.

“I considered letting you run until you exhausted yourself,” he murmured. He reached out a hand, examining his trap. “Catching you when your knees finally buckled. Or, perhaps, letting you get close enough to the border to see it before I grabbed you.” His fingers moved off the rope, trailing up her chest and grazing along her throat. He left behind a blaze of heat everywhere he touched. “But after our talk earlier I knew it had to be this.”

Her face flushed – with mortification, with want, with far too many things, “You’re a bastard.”

“And you, like most mortals, are a liar.” He reached up with his other hand, and something snapped out of her line of vision. He brandished a stick from the trees in front of her, making her watch as it transformed into a leather crop before her eyes. She didn’t know if it was real or only an illusion. “Fae cannot lie,” he said, “so you can imagine we have grown rather accustomed to telling when somebody else is.”

She wrenched her gaze back up to his face. Her heart was pounding, far more now, than it had been at any point during her desperate bid for escape. Anticipation, dread, need, all shivered through her.

“I haven’t lied about anything,” she protested, a little hoarsely.

He brought the crop down hard on her right thigh in response.

Her brain went blank. She couldn’t have said if she made a sound. She couldn’t have said what the look on her face was, but he brought the crop up and caressed the edge along the curve of her cheek. She resisted the urge to squeeze her eyes shut.

He leaned into her ear, like he was sharing a secret. Her breath caught. “I detest liars,” he said. “Maybe I should have you gagged.”

“But I didn’t—”

The crop smacked down again, impossibly fast, stinging and bright in the exact same spot as before. She couldn’t keep from crying out.

“Do you remember what you asked me for?” The fae’s head tilted, almost curiously. “What you wanted so badly that you would risk one of my brethren literally eating your heart out to get it?”

Of course she remembered.

“Tell me again,” he said. His voice was soft and unmistakeably commanding, impossible to deny.  It shot through her veins like electricity.  

“I said,” she whispered, “that I wanted to be normal.”

***

19:40

“I don’t know.” She stared at her knees, trying to put it to words. “What is it that normal people fantasize about? I know it’s not—” she bit down hard on her lip.

The fae stared at her in silence. Waiting.

They sat some distance away from the main hall, where that year’s hunt was being fine-tuned. This was a quieter space, with a lush carpet of moss and wildflowers blooming every colour.

She steeled herself; she hadn’t come all this way to fall at the first hurdle, and he could hardly magic up a fix for her if she couldn’t tell him the problem.

“Normal people,” she said, “don’t go around thinking about how much they need someone to tie them up. To tell them what to do. Or make them do what they want. There’s enough chance of actually getting beat up and hurt that you don’t sit around thinking, hey, you know what I really want? Someone to take advantage of me.”

“…you are not the only mortal to ever be interested in that,” the fae said. He’d gone statuesque, unreadable, focused. There was no trace of a playful smile on his lips anymore.

The air around them was heady with some intoxicating scent, jasmine, or something else. Something not found in the mortal world. She couldn’t pin it down.

“I know, but…” She dug her nails into her palms. “What I am…it’s…always halfway between things. It’s never enough one way or the other. Just—” She closed her eyes. Her throat locked tight. “Just take it away. Take it all way. Please. Let me dream about, like, I don’t know. Something smaller. Something that I can actually have.”

Wanting, in the grand scheme of things, hurt too badly and in all the wrong ways. It would be easier not to. At least then she wouldn’t be stuck with the awful longing of it all.

“Something that you can actually have,” the fae echoed. “That is quite a blank check for someone who has been so careful with their words before. Something you can actually have may be death, or disease, or everything that you do not actually want.”

“A nice house,” she snapped. “A decent career. Something nice and comfortable. What do people normally ask you for? Whatever it is, that. I want to want that. I want to dream about something that people actually understand.”

“We’ll need to work out the finer details,” the fae said, after a long silence. “Are you prepared to pay the price, if you lose?”

She swallowed.

“Anything.”

***

12:14

“So,” the fae said. “What you want…is this. Or some version of it that actually feels like it belongs to you. Are you going to tell me that I’m wrong?”

She wanted to point out that this was, actually, the exact opposite of what she’d asked for thank you very much. This was handing over matchsticks and gasoline instead of water.  He was very, very wrong.  

He brought the crop down a third time, this time on her left thigh – measuring her reaction coolly as she jolted. She couldn’t find enough air. It betrayed the lie.

“Do not – mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you. You should know, human.” He looked at her with those wicked-lovely eyes and seemed to see straight through everything that she was and ever would be. “Normal is overrated. It won’t make you feel whole.”

She stared at him.

The fae snapped his fingers, and all of the twinkling lights went slack.

She flailed and fell, landing in a graceless heap in his waiting arms. His grip tightened. His lips were inches from hers. She froze.

“Once a fae knows a mortal’s name,” the fae murmured. “Their real name, they have absolute power over them. You know that, don’t you? You knew that when you promised to give me yours.”

“Only if I lost. It’s not dawn yet! You haven’t won yet.”

He set her down on her battered feet. She blinked up at him and swayed, uncertain.

“So run, human.” He made a show of stepping back, raising his hands in surrender, fingers waggling in the air. “Run back to what is ordinary. Or…” his hands dropped. “Stop lying, get on your knees, and give me your name right now.”

She spluttered.  She scowled. She opened her mouth on three different occasions to tell him to fuck right off and said none of them. He didn’t say anything, he only looked at her, waited like he’d done when they first met.

She fell to her knees, in the tangled pool of light.  They didn’t move now. Nothing in the entire forest seemed to move, nor make a sound, except her blood rushing in her ears.

She looked up at him and he took a step closer, so she looked up more.

“Kella,” she whispered. “My name is Kella Devereux.”

“Kella.” He purred her name, and it was as if she was hearing it for the first time, like someone was actually talking to her for the first time. It went all the way to her bones. The magic crackled in the air around them like a summer storm, full of promise and danger and release all at the same time. “Welcome to your new life, Kella Devereux.  Don’t ever presume to lie to me again.”

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

Thanks!

1. Sweet Night by V

2. Even if I Die, It’s Still You by V and Jin

3. Stay Gold by BTS

4. How You Like That by BlackPink

You might be wondering if I’m into kpop. The answer: yes. Very.

Anyone who wants to join can!

yeet guess what time it is

Pinterest song games

1: song that describes you best

2: song that describes your current love life

3: song that will play when you die

4: your life’s theme song

. .

for me (‘cause y’all should know by now i can’t resist these things):

1. losing myself, state champs

2. piledriver waltz, arctic monkeys

3. robbers, the 1975

4. something so strong, crowded house

@raven-n-tha-moonlight @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @ithinkimon-fire @datingdonovan and anyone else who wants to

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

Thanks! This is fun!

I like bold colors, but I think my favorite at the moment is bright, Cerulean blue. My favorite animal is anything that is feline, whether domestic or not. And my favorite flavor is butter pecan!

@aureatestatic @weirdo-sakshi-singh @dragonsblowingoutbirthdaycandles @uhm-raya @kryskakikomi @perfectgalaxybouquetuniverse

A person’s favorite color, favorite animal, and favorite flavor of ice cream can say a lot about them when considering the answers as a whole. Some prime examples I’ve heard are:

~ Silver, Artic Wolf, and Mint Chocolate Chip.

~ Pink/Yellow, Putu Bird, and Cotton Candy.

~ Light Brown, Tree Kangaroo, and Rum Raisin.

~ Green, Pig, and Cookie Dough.

Mine are:

~ Burgundy, Fox, and Moose Tracks.

Tag some friends and get a sense of who they are! :)

@notable-bumblr @persistentchaos @enterfandomreference @valerietompson @paper-crowns-and-tiaras @ironxprince @acecuddle @angst-dealer @hey-you-i-just

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

Manipulation tactics in apologies

So, this is half writing advice, half life advice.

We all need to be able to recognize when an apology is manipulative, on both a large and small scale. I think we're all aware of the most recent large apology. Quite a few of these apply to that.

But also, feel free to use this as writing advice, too.

Not all of these are necessarily manipulative on their own. If you have apologized to someone for a mistake and done any of these, it doesn't mean you were trying to manipulate them. A lot of these can be completely unintentional. But, put more of them together and take them to more of an extreme, and then you begin to have a problem.

Third person. Especially in reference to the past, using third person to refer to yourself in an apology is a form of detachment. It's dodging the mistake and shifting the blame onto a false 'past self' to avoid taking responsibility.

Hyperbolic self hate. In a casual apology, a little self pity isn't out of place. If you're usually self deprecating, it's normal. It becomes dangerous when it's less like "sorry, I suck at remembering times", and more like "I'm a horrible person, I'm so stupid and terrible and cruel-".

Hyperbolic consequences. On the same note, it's also manipulative to say "I should die/be hurt/be abandoned". It's forcing the listener to feel guilty and feel as if they have caused feelings of depression.

Blaming, not explaining. Often, when apologizing, we want to explain why we may have done something wrong. That's normal! But a good apology should make the other person understand why you made the mistake, not tell them that you didn't make the mistake because you couldn't control it. This is also a form of guilt tripping.

Selective addressing. This one applies to if the apology is for more than one issue. A manipulator may fully address one point, but disregard or gloss over another, then use this to pretend that they fully addressed both, or that they don't need to apologize more than once.

Forced relatability. To make someone feel bad for them, a manipulator may place blame on things the listener can relate to going through, or has sympathy for. This makes them feel as if they cannot criticize them without acting as a hypocrite, or insensitive.

Gaslighting. I'm sure you all know how this one works, but it isn't always "that didn't happen"- it can be "that wasn't as bad as you say", or "you didn't get that it was a joke?". It twists reality to downplay events.

Strawman/subject changing. These are together because they function the same way. A strawman is a falsified or exaggerated arguement that can be easily disproved, and usually has nothing to do with the topic at hand. This can make it seem like the situation has been addressed, and demonizes the victim.

Triangulation. This is when another person is involved in an arguement, usually by the manipulator. This can be to make the victim jealous, focus their attention on the other person, or force them to side with their abuser in disliking them. There is little to no communication between the victim and the added person, and can be used in apologies to shift blame or distract from the issue.

Love-bombing. Less of an apology, and more of a substitute for one. Instead of owning up to their actions, a manipulator may shower the victim with affection and praise, attempting to create a sense of loyalty or a feeling that they can't be as bad as perceived.

That's all I'll get into, but there are far more than I've listed. If you think you're being manipulated, I urge you to research further.

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

This is for the poetry challenge about platonic love! The rule was that it couldn’t be over ten lines, which was pretty difficult!

Friends

The buzz of a summer’s night

Your silence is company

Our twin shadows grow long

Before they melt into dark eve

Woodsmoke and embers

The fireflies blink sleepily in the tall weed

The world is settling in

But my mind whirls, a galaxy

Tonight, I sit my sleepless, evening vigil

Through the chilling hours, your hand warms mine

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

Thank ya!

1. I have a fear of heights.

2. I got tested for COVID-19 and the results were negative, so hooray!

3. I snuck out to get my mom flowers for Mother’s Day.

@aureatestatic @weirdo-sakshi-singh @uhm-raya

If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog ❤

yeet

uhhh

1. i’ve lived in two places my whole life (we moved when i was 10)

2. sweatshirts are my favorite things in the world

3. i currently have 9 cups/cans/mugs in my room

thanks for the ask!

@raven-n-tha-moonlight @riceloversblog @ithinkimon-fire @confetti-cas

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

The Hangman’s Funeral Party

There must be a party when everything ends. There’s no remembrance for a wasted life without Pitiless noise and crowds waltzing around the gallows. Bleach is served for free today. Feed your whitened smiles And polish them enough to excise the last bits of eyesight   From the blinded eyes of the dead.  

I hope you’ll have 10 cents to spare. Pay to pray for the salvation of my shriveling stray soul.   This is the hangman’s garden party. Flower crowns for nooses And perfect smiles for tears. Would you look up and see   The hangman weeping at the window? Staring down At the body that used to be his, turned eternally lifeless   As you have memories to spare and faces to appease?  

There’s elegance in seeing how things truly end.   Alone in the room with no one to pretend for.   That’s what it all comes down to: Alone in the room with no one to pretend for.  

The limbo between perpetual solitary confinement And the most boring party you’ve ever attended.   The sky plans no feasts for the dead, and the thunder Sound like another gig no one bothered to invite you to.  

Sewing up tote bags from each broken beer bottle And decorating them with every jaundiced dream.   This is the new trend: make it all performative, And don’t forget a whitened smile to freshen up the look.  

The hangmen stay when parties end and guests decide to leave, Displaying toys with sharpened edges on their silent shelves.   Blades rust, bottles break, walls crack, and friends betray. And by night, the looking glass only shows one reflection.  

[raven-n-tha-moonlight]

I'm not afraid of death

I am afraid of the minutes before it

When my bed of steel nails

Grow into roses

If petals could talk

They would whisper in pity

By their words, I'll bloody up my hands

With the wounds the size of torn rags

And I'll tear away the civilization I made

Count every grain falling through an hour glass

Till goodbyes erode away

Mountains stand short

Bring forth my old rivers

Drain them of glory

Count every grain falling through an hour glass

Till molten corpses fall from the sky

Bells A-ringing in chaotic serenity

Doves turn to face the weeping nights

To wish my old constellations goodbye

By their words, I'll bloody up my hands

Throw away my world, let it leave my grasp

If the petals could talk

They would whisper in pity

By their words I'll wash up my hands

Lay in my lush foggy blankets

Till my eyes flutter shut

And peppered kisses, end at the hands of my crumbling world

Divide my soul and body with bleach

I'll drink it until my body is pure and free

From sins I committed at their word

following a prophecy and commiting a sin,

is how religion is born, with its birth

Comes timed demise

I'm not afraid of death

I am afraid of the minutes before it

When cold blooded sins turn dove like, gentle

If petals could talk

They would whisper in pity,

"What a fool she was, to follow a prophecy to create belief. What a fool she was, to burn dynasties for their words. What a fool she was, what a fool she was"

(Repent for your sins to make those after you believe in rules, repent for your sins to turn unity into society, Repent for your sins to look at your hands to see the monster you've become, repent for your sins, repent for your sins)