Belle

lifeinpoetry:

I pledge my neck

to every knife, every woman
            I sang out of the water’s

widowed mouth, how
            I repay my gods by never

dying how I’m told

— Kristin Chang, from “Necromancy,” published in The Rumpus

violentwavesofemotion:

“The barren winds of lonely autumn moan within my heart.”

— Zeb-un-Nissa, tr. by Paul Smith, from “Makhfi: A Selection of Poems,”

tainbocuailnge:

tainbocuailnge:

death of a bachelor is a good song

it’s a song about a dude being fucking stoked to marry his fiance and poking fun at the ‘marriage is the end right fellas’ culture by saying ‘guess ill die then! worth it!’ and i think that’s neat

infamously-exhausted:

i hope the rest of july treats you well, august leaves you happy, september fills you with warmth, october gives you closure, november gives you new beginnings, december gives you A love of your life, and 2018 is fruitful and you love and are loved

lhzthepoet:

“The fairy tale gets a little darker after midnight. It’s not about fighting villains anymore. It’s about the hero trying not to destroy themselves.”

— and off in the corner, the princesses are sharpening their swords // L.H.Z

malfvoys:

malfvoys:

it’s officially the first day of spring which means porridge weather is over and hozier is finally done making his oatmeal and can now again release MUSIC 

for those of you who are ignorant of hozier’s hibernation habits

pigmenting:

february gets up and gathers her things. looks down at march curled like a cat and sleeping. runs a hand across his back. it’s always so fleeting, so rushed. she turns to the door and march rolls over, unaware. how gentle he looks now, she thinks as she slips out into the night. how warm like a child.