asoftepiloguemylove:

i think my body is falling in pieces i think my blood is passing me by

Micah Nemerever These Violent Delights / I.B. Vyache Excerpt 07.01.21 / Silas Denver Melvin excerpt from Grit: A Poetry Collection / Christa Wolf excerpt from Cassandra: A Novel and Four Essays / Ethel Cain Family Tree (Intro) / unknown / Fiona Apple Left Alone / Richard Siken The Worm King’s Lullaby / Gwen Benaway Holy Wild

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portraitoftheoddity:

Thinking about how my mom tried to “seduce” my dad when they were in college together by sneaking oranges into his backpack, because she grew up food insecure and feeding someone/sharing food was a big deal with her upbringing with a lot of emotional meaning–

and meanwhile my poor dad is just convinced that he’s been haunted by some citrus poltergeist because why the fuck are there always oranges in his bag he swears he did not put there???

faustandfurious:

faustandfurious:

There’s something truly exquisite about stories where the real tragedy is the price you paid to stand on top of the world

Hollow victories … sacrificing your humanity on the altar of what you perceive to be the greater good … the loneliness of godhood … regret for the person you used to be … the realisation that there is no way back … *chef’s kiss*

sleep3r4gent:

one time I realized “wait, I can just not go” and it was all downhill from there

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radishnt:

“but what if my friend gets offended and hates me and refuses to speak to me after i set a boundary” easy peasy! that is not your friend. hope this helps

mag200:

one of those “i judge your taste in men” quizzes except it’s text-based and i actually like men so this one’s not mean <3

drpupper:

your honor, in my defense: who cares like omfggggggggg who cares???????????? like. come On

ritikajyala:

There’ll be a moment when you realise you’re 27 when yesterday you were just 17; and you wouldn’t be able to tell how a decade passed away and your life got divided into before and afters. The fury of youth will subdue and nothing will really change but everything will feel different when you look at old photographs and blurry videos taken on cheap mobile phones. Scents will remind you of childhood and certain friends you don’t talk to anymore, hangouts will become reunions and mom’s burnt pie will become the best food you ever had. And I know on some days you won’t be able to show anything of those 10 years but I hope you remember to breathe, and let go of the knot in your chest. I hope you go out in the sun and live a little, because tomorrow is 37.

Edit- I added the visualizer for this piece on my YT, check it out here

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned