Devendra Banhart & Ana Kras
relationship goals
"….Who
wouldn’t want you? Whose most demonic appetite
could you possibly fail to answer?"
wouldn’t want you? Whose most demonic appetite
could you possibly fail to answer?"
— Louise Gluck, from “Persephone’s Song” (via darkenedhallways)
"i said: i could be a wolf for you. i could put my teeth on your throat. i could growl. i could eat you whole. i could wait for you in the dark. i could howl against your hair."
— catherynne m. valente
(via facina-oris)
(via facina-oris)
"Start by pulling him out of the fire and
hoping that he will forget the smell.
He was supposed to be an angel but they took him
from that light and turned him into something hungry,
something that forgets what his hands are for when they
aren’t shaking.
He will lose so much, and you will watch it all happen
because you had him first, and you would let the world
break its own neck if it means keeping him.
Start by wiping the blood off of his chin and
pretending to understand.
Repeat to yourself
“I won’t leave you, I won’t leave you”
until you fall asleep and dream of the place
where nothing is red.
When is a monster not a monster?
Oh, when you love it.
Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.
Here are your upturned hands.
Give them to him and watch how he prays
like he is learning his first words.
Start by pulling him out of another fire,
and putting him back together with the pieces
you find on the floor.
There is so much to forgive, but you do not
know how to forget.
When is a monster not a monster?
Oh, when you are the reason it has become so mangled.
Here is your humble offering,
obliterated and broken in the mouth
of this abandoned church.
He has come back to stop the world
from turning itself inside out, and you love him, you do,
so you won’t let him.
Tell him that you will never know any better.
Pretend to understand why that isn’t good enough."
hoping that he will forget the smell.
He was supposed to be an angel but they took him
from that light and turned him into something hungry,
something that forgets what his hands are for when they
aren’t shaking.
He will lose so much, and you will watch it all happen
because you had him first, and you would let the world
break its own neck if it means keeping him.
Start by wiping the blood off of his chin and
pretending to understand.
Repeat to yourself
“I won’t leave you, I won’t leave you”
until you fall asleep and dream of the place
where nothing is red.
When is a monster not a monster?
Oh, when you love it.
Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.
Here are your upturned hands.
Give them to him and watch how he prays
like he is learning his first words.
Start by pulling him out of another fire,
and putting him back together with the pieces
you find on the floor.
There is so much to forgive, but you do not
know how to forget.
When is a monster not a monster?
Oh, when you are the reason it has become so mangled.
Here is your humble offering,
obliterated and broken in the mouth
of this abandoned church.
He has come back to stop the world
from turning itself inside out, and you love him, you do,
so you won’t let him.
Tell him that you will never know any better.
Pretend to understand why that isn’t good enough."
— Caitlyn Siehl, “Start Here” (via alonesomes)
THE MOST IMPORTANT OTP QUESTION: CAN THE BIGGER ONE PICK UP THE SMALLER ONE IF THEY HUGGED??????? THINK ABOUT IT.
"You kiss me with your mouth wide open like you’re not afraid of swallowing poison. I taste the good and bad in you and want them both. We call this bravery."
— Anita Ofokansi, Literary Sexts (via larmoyante)
but morning person + not morning person could make the worst (or maybe the best?) otp
“Gooooood morning dear :)” “fuck you and everything you stand for”
(◡‿◡✿) tall men that look scary and are feared by most people
(◕‿◕✿) that fall in love with itty bitty women that can bring them to their knees
"names called out across the water,
names i called you behind your back,
sour and delicious, secret and unrepeatable,
the names of flowers that open only once,
shouted from balconies, shouted from rooftops,
or muffled by pillows, or whispered in sleep,
or caught in the throat like a lump of meat.
i try, i do. i try and try. a happy ending?
sure enough –– hello darling, welcome home.
i’ll call you darling, hold you tight. we are
not traitors but the lights go out. it’s dark."
names i called you behind your back,
sour and delicious, secret and unrepeatable,
the names of flowers that open only once,
shouted from balconies, shouted from rooftops,
or muffled by pillows, or whispered in sleep,
or caught in the throat like a lump of meat.
i try, i do. i try and try. a happy ending?
sure enough –– hello darling, welcome home.
i’ll call you darling, hold you tight. we are
not traitors but the lights go out. it’s dark."
— “saying your names,” richard siken (via janesyre)