ONLY THING I'll Be Thinking About For Next Few Business Days 

My Body: A Crime Scene

I was told the body is a temple. I was taught to treat my body like a temple. Sacred, Holy, somewhere God resides, somewhere a person can be at peace. But with time, the sacrality has begun to fade. It has become a realm of my internal demons, something sinister.

My body is now more of a crime scene than a temple.

I've put up barricade tapes around me. Of bright "when life gives you lemon" yellow and black. A cautionary measure for the lighthearted.

Some understand and stay away.

Others push right through like the case now belongs to them.

They say they've seen this before.

They say no amount of gore can keep them away.

They say they'll take care of it.

Only to realize it's bloodier than they could've imagined.

Multiple fingerprints, Multiple footprints: An evidence marker placed for every person I let walk all over me, and for every person, I gave my heart only for them to poke my wounds.

Blood: Numerous splatters, but all mine.

Weapons: Some sticks and stones, knives that I willingly handed over hoping they'd protect me, now covered in my blood and, a pen.

Many witnesses: Either dumb or hostile.

Signs of arson: Ashes of everything I burnt down. Pictures, letters, broken promises, false hopes, unfulfilled dreams.

And now, all that's left of me is a chalk outline. Everything else faded, picked apart or withered away.

My body is not a temple anymore. It isn't sacred or pure.

It's not a place I can stand barefoot.

It's now a place where I need a hazmat suit and gloves.

This makes me so happy and sad at the same time.!🥺

❤

Achilles, come down (slowed)

Achilles, Achilles, Achilles, come down Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof? You’re scaring us and all of us, some of us love you Achilles, it’s not much but there’s proof You crazy-assed cosmonaut, remember your virtue Redemption lies plainly in truth Just humour us, Achilles, Achilles, come down Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof

🍃🌺🌙If you receive this you make somebody happy. Go and send this to ten of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. If you get it back even better 🌙🌺🍃

@just-a-cup-of-anxietea made my morning ♥️

KINTSUGI

I learned kintsugi so I could fix my favorite broken mug.⁣

The art that meant golden joinery,⁣

Golden repair.⁣

But I never thought about what it meant.⁣

Why would I? I fixed my mug.⁣

⁣

Until I broke,⁣

Until I saw cracks within people that I love.⁣

That was the moment I realized⁣

Kintsugi isn't just for fixing ceramics⁣

It is not to say what didn't kill you made you stronger.⁣

It is to show what didn't kill you is now a part of your story.⁣

A significant piece of who you are.⁣

For better or worse,⁣

whether it made you stronger, weaker, or traumatized,⁣

It's. Still. You. ⁣

⁣

So we pick up the broken pieces of ourselves and the ones we love⁣

And we put it back together with golden glue,⁣

As best as we can.⁣

We assure our loved ones not to conceal their scars⁣

We promise them the glued parts aren't ugly.⁣

That the cracks are now like a golden vein,⁣

a vein through which ichor flows.⁣

The same ichor that Gods bled is now,⁣

Keeping us immortal for a while.⁣

Doesn't a word look weird when we stare at it long enough? Doesn't the alphabet look slightly meaningless when we write it over and over again? Here's one: CLING C-LING, C-L-ING, C-L-I-NG, C-L-I-N-G. Does this make sense? It doesn't sound like a word the more you say it. It doesn't look like a word the more you write it. The curves and strokes, dots and dash!

Isn't it how the name of the people you love changes? At some point, it stops being a name, a word that belongs to them. It becomes a feeling that belongs to you. It stops sounding like a word or a random string of letters. It becomes a string of feelings you cling to when life falls apart. Their name on your phone screen stops looking like a word. Every notification and phone call conjures an image of them looking at you and smiling before you can even look at it twice. That particular string of curves and strokes, dots and dash Once belonged to them and is now beloved by you Which you randomly write in the air because it gives you comfort.

Sometimes we take names for granted without realizing the power it holds. When all it takes is that one word to appear on your screen to get you through another tiring day.

Why are Niall Horan fans called Horan-dogs when we could be Horan-y? I mean... it's right there! how could he miss that?

“a toxic label

broken chords

a gentle note

Silence roars

What I Am is

what I know

As above

so below...” - m.sonder

//transgressions//

in conclusion: it finished me

A CELESTIAL INSECURITY

Is the moon envious of the sun?

And it's radiance that cannot be outdone?

Is that why she hides behind the earth?

Calls it an eclipse but, doubting her worth.

What does she see when she looks into the lake?

Her molten silver face or the distortion that ripples make?

Is this why poets always write about her desolate beauty?

Because she's more like us than any character from a movie.

A celestial body far far away

Like all our insecurities in display

How many times have we envied others radiance,

And hid away from an audience?

Doubting our worth, causing self-esteem distortion

By looking at a person's life only in portion?

So like her, we go through phases

And like her, we grow through phases.