#writings

[secrets-i-whisper-to-the-moon]

[feral-ballad]

from Anthology of Armenian Poetry, ed. & tr. by Diana Der Hovanessian and Marzbed Margossian; "Your bosom"

[mournfulroses]

Margaret Atwood, from The Selected Poems of Margaret Atwood; "She Considers Evading Him,"

[boytumms]

I'm high and horny right now, and I can't stop thinking about a college dude bro just getting high and then stuffing himself. He can't feel how full he's getting, so he just keeps going until he finally passes out. Only to wake up with a swollen and stuffed tummy. His frat bros make jokes about it, but some of them are pretty intrigued. So the next time dude bro gets high. His bros help him out and make him some snacks. And this time, he wakes up looking 6 months pregnant with all his fellow frat members joking about how he's gonna be a good mommy and how his little food baby is so big.

they try to keep him high as long as they can while continuously ordering more and more take out, feeding him for hours on end, trying to see how big they can stuff his poor belly. His stomach is packed tight, round and aching horribly, gurgling and groaning as an endless stream of meals gets shoved down his throat. In his daze, the boy can feel his stomach growing and aching, but somehow he still feels hungry and his friends keep pushing food towards his mouth, he keeps opening up and swallowing like his body is on auto pilot and he just can't stop himself.

The next morning, he's woken up by a deafening roar and a sharp, painful feeling in his belly. When he opens his eyes, he nearly passes out at the sight of his stomach. It's towering over his body, swollen beyond belief and aching like he's about to burst, and it feels like he really might too. He lifts a shaking had to the tight skin of the swell, wincing as just the lightest pressure triggers a painful cramp.

His tummy is so big and heavy he could easily look 9 months pregnant, maybe even more. Trapped under the sheer weight of his stuffed belly, tummy in too much pain to even try to move, the poor boy is stuck moaning and crying for days, waiting for his stomach to slowly and painfully process the dozens and dozens of meals that its been forced to digest

[ecstarry]

Delmira Agustini, from Poetics of Eros

[fragmentos-literarixs]

Soy una persona que no tiene problema en aclarar tus dudas e inseguridades. Si algo te molesta, si algo te hace sentir inseguro, si algo te está incomodando, por favor, házmelo saber, porque sin pensarlo te daré una explicación y haré lo que tenga que hacer para que ya no te sientas de esa manera.

Por lo tanto no supongas, no saques conclusiones, no me señales sin saber la verdad de todo, no me tildes de mala persona cuando no conoces realmente mi corazón. Ya no somos adolescentes que no saben comunicarse y sólo se tiran indirectas; somos adultos y debemos de una vez por todas actuar como tal.

¿Tan difícil es hablar y solucionar las cosas de una manera madura?

Estoy harta.

— Rose Noire.

[wordsofaworld]

I did not make the wrong choice

When I chose to love you

It was written in the stars

It was meant to be

You and me

Like the sun and the moon

Eclipsing

But now we are kept apart by time

And missing you hurts

But it shows just how much I loved.

[wordedarchive]

escapril day 24: unexpected transmission

[thepathetickind]

I dream but the night is still far,

by laurenmaerie, tired thoughts

[patronsaintofhomosandpain]

Your characters are more important than your story.

·:*¨༺𖤐☆✮☆𖤐༻¨*:·

So, really take your time fleshing them out because the better you know them, the more they will help you out with the story!

When you know your characters, you don't have to assume how they'll react to stuff they just will.

Use it to propel your story so you don't have to do all the heavy lifting.

[soulsunpoets]

Gods do exist, they live on the sun.

[secrets-i-whisper-to-the-moon]

[feral-ballad]

Paruyr Sevak, from Anthology of Armenian Poetry, ed. & tr. by Diana Der Hovanessian and Marzbed Margossian; "Your unripe love"

[mournfulroses]

Guillaume Apollinaire, from Modern Poets of France: An Anthology; "Pretty, Bizzare, Darling,"

[mud-and-flame]

#28

Siempre esperaré por ti

Escribiré poemas que nunca leerás

Cartas que nunca recibirás

Canciones que nunca escucharas

Siempre esperaré que vuelvas, amor

Para que arregles mi alma

Para que remiendes mi corazón

Pero yo sé que ya no queda nada

Yo sé que no regresarás.

[ariasmontage]

Muse

Vacant eyes, these swinging highs,

Three finsihed cigarettes, an overflowing desk-

The stage is set.

Your tender gaze comes with some exertion.

Kisses smudged on cigarettes butts, you are playing your part well.

Vacant eyes, swollen thighs,

Would this be enough to keep this alive?

2 am- tired, distant, this act of love.

There it is, your tender gaze.

Vacant eyes; you fear you have lost your muse.

It comes to you in a dream;

Half awake, you scribble.

You understand the words,

just not what they mean together.

You understand me,

just not what it means to be together.

-aria