Delusion

our father who art in

what if they just adopted a new cat for their birthday (read: they picked up a stray abandoned in a cardboard box)

something a little different

all we know is falling

I love them so much

God is something passed on by word of mouth, like fire from wick to wood. If I wasn’t given Him, would I find Him in a lightning strike? A stray spark, struck by steel? Would I overhear the word for Him in a conversation between the wind and the woods? Or the sparrow and the sun? A word is shared and a spark grows - what lies at the root of it? Silence, heavy loam, the thing shared by everything before we share it.

cleaner, but still not a saint

tw: blood

a city of grief

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a high res desktop wallpaper version of this is available on my ko-fi :)

revamped my old twin fantasy art into a gif