saturnray

[saturnray]

the worst part is it

buzzes

in the background.

you are a body of water

and i am swimming in it.

i am a map and

you are the blue lines.

i swallowed my breath to

feel what you did but

minerals can't replicate

the taste

[saturnray]

Common Swifts Bruno Liljefors (Swedish, 1860-1939)

[saturnray]

not something i'd normally reblog but 😭😭

mhmmm….. just thinking about this……..

[saturnray]

the road is rough on a walk im not supposed to be on,

whisps of red hanging out of a fogged window.

its loud and cold, how i imagine heaven would be.

hands buzzing, eyes puffy with fruit flies and tears-

pedestrian laws ringing in my ears as i dance between cars,

tight rope walking in the saftey of danger.

my hands writhe at my sides and i force them to clutch the railing

instead of the abused cigarette filters

stuck in the grips of my shoes

[saturnray]

if i posted an angsty fanfic on ao3 would any of my maybe five followers read it (or try) ?

[saturnray]

bluffing game

scraped my knees running down to your arms i was always a sucker for green eyes and rakish smiles weed on sunday weed on every day you could help it you always said you only worshipped things you could grasp in your hands like 20 inch waists i played the bluffing game then skipped lunch you think with things more overeager than your drawling mind patience makes it all the better but you smirk and say it's like god any way i'll have it ants like sweet things my hair and the garbage can boys like soft hands and pink lips strangers that sing to let the tightness in your chest leak out i'll be all yours for no price at all all i have is my tired mind my wasteland made of hips and thighs but say it's enough for you it's enough for you right?

---

@ravensncrowsx @regardingrowan @inkandteaxx @salmonsushi13 @yourlocalbadgerscales @rainystarssx @somemismatchedsocks @raysofpoetry222 @frenchfryturtle @nyxmahogany

[saturnray]

YOUR POETRY IS FIRE!!! <333333

you are literally so sweet and you have literally no idea what this means to me.🩵🩵

[saturnray]

someone told me about safety in numbers while making a joke no one should repeat i used to think people were safer together but there is a poem that is not only words a poem that is a boy who is eleven grinning through pages saying there are two of him

there is a title to the poem i dare not speak to name a thing is to give it power of a sort and this feels too dangerous by far already

the book casts shadows behind veils even of sanity: words that can only enlighten and who wants to be changed so deeply?

i closed the book but the poem remained like a song in my head trying to break free & i don't know how long i can contain

[saturnray]

your scent-

a gun, a hot rag, the jaws of time-

it lingers.

when i smell my clothes it burns my nose and

i feel like i could die.

i only knew you so long.

there is a fine line between hot and searing-

and its been blurred.

and when you

polish your gun and

wipe your wounds and

bite as hard as you can-

i'll be there.

bleeding, wiping, biting

[saturnray]

you will sink.

and it will be salty and

cold and

you will suck the bubbles between the ribs

and taste the tarte air inside of them.

but you will see every shiny flake of salt

on the way down.

each one resembles a star.

[saturnray]

Hello, wonderful souls! 🤍🌍

I hope you're doing well. 🌿

Could you help me amplify my family's story and bring awareness to our struggle? 🙏🏻

💬 Please reblog my pinned post or consider donating just $5—your support could truly make a difference in saving lives amidst war and hardship.

Your kindness and voice matter more than you know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍🌿

🕊️ @mosabsdr | Every share counts. 💫

🩵🩵

[saturnray]

YOU DON’T KNOW THIS BUT,

A day from now, some time in the past, you carved April into me,

maimed me with a great sorrow & left me for rotten. I, too sad,

too alone, scooped up the guts and tried to put the pieces back,

at best, the body is an effigy, waiting to be burned by your touch,

and at worst, there is no passing resemblance to a body, a ghost

with too many wounds, too many memories—too little forgetting.

I used to think of April as the one month where everything finds

space to co-exist—pouring rain, snow, biting cold of autumn,

tender warmth of a still-sleepy sun, a quiet place for things to

stir again, but it only carries your whispers now.  

[saturnray]

dPo nOt nWe eEd iRt

tCo fOe eNd tTh eRg rOe eLd

aFc eOn tRu rGy oEf hTu rSt

●■●

[saturnray]

Scene of the Crime

It is still winter where we meet. Perhaps

it’s always winter here. Train tracks run through

a snowed-in glade; lines drawn down an empty page.

Inside by the fire you keep looking

over your shoulder, and I dig out a pen

to speak in a way you can take in:

I don’t know what I’m meant to have done.

I don’t know that there’s anything wrong

with my love. I don’t know why I still long

to break this spell, melt unrelenting snow,

bring on a late spring, and hear how that sounds

in a world where you look at me.

[saturnray]

you are sick and i do not forgive you.

i am healthy as a horse and i should.

i used to be shattered and in that moment i would've done anything

but you hugged me like a

mortar and pestle and kissed me like

a lighter and spoon and

you spoke to me like i was to be diffused

you were cautious, not like with the glass that i was but like you were

deciding which wire to cut

and at night there were no wires

and it was smooth because it

had to be and

you cut and you cut and there was nothing to sever and i begged

and you cut and there

was nothing to

cut but you moved your hands with

striking precision,

hacking and

i felt sick and it was dark and

it was cold and you were there but

i was alone and i could've stopped cutting and you could've stopped helping

but here i am cut and set off and

you are gone and i was alone just

like i thought i was.

and when it was done you

said goodnight and i

turned off the light and i said a prayer

and i dont remeber who i asked but i said

please and i turned away because i couldn't

look at my face and because i knew

there was more

to be cut

[saturnray]

Joy Sullivan, from "Late Bloomer", Instructions for Traveling West

[saturnray]

i feel weary

and no one

lends a shoulder

or a smile

for lack of resources

we are all slowly

sinking into this pit

with the wealthy

and the powerful

using our heads

as supports

for their floors