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follow my main blog +milkywayes
for fandom and personal posts ♥
sorry about the space metaphors.
this is my writing blog, i'll use it for posting poetry. any writing posted to this blog is mine.

milkywayes:

Letting go is not an act of thunder and rain, not always.

on 27 May about 2 months ago with 13N
poetry;  non fandom;  

The sea foam brought you in;
from where, I do not know.

It cracked and shuddered when you
left it, but you were still, and you were cold.

Aphrodite danced from your lips and found herself a home,
but you were still and you stood tight

Against wind and all the tides and
I did not offer you a hand.

Too wide were your eyes, too easy your feet and
I must have thought, I mustn’t try to grasp you

Or you would disperse into salty air and curse me
from the sea beds, every night,

until they’d come to take me, too.

on 19 May about 2 months ago with 17N
poetry;  non fandom;  
on 19 May about 2 months ago with 278N
poetry;  non fandom;  

to R.

on 29 Mar about 4 months ago with 11N
to r;  poetry;  non fandom;  

i don’t rebel against existence; i rebel against you putting boundaries on mine.

on 15 Mar about 4 months ago with 78N
non fandom;  poetry;  
on 15 Mar about 4 months ago with 8N
non fandom;  poetry;  
to R.
on 13 Mar about 4 months ago with 25N
to R.;  non fandom;  poetry;  
nadiaraleigh12: ello friend i think what you write is beautiful and i would reblog but i hit post limit but I REALLY WANT TO SHOW MY APPRECIATION because it is. so. effing. wonderful. words are weird because they're just noises croaking out of a throat or etchings on a paper/screen but they can make you smile, laugh or both. i think what you write is amazing and you are amazing and just... yeah UwU

oh my god thank you!!! ; u ; it’s a really personal piece as you can probably tell so this means SO MUCH thank you wonderful person

on 4 Feb about 5 months ago with 2N
happy tag;  ; u ;;  nadiaraleigh12;  answered;  
When I fell in love for the first time
he was a man and I was fifteen and
fuzzy around the edges, solid only in mirrors
and in my head. And I realise now that it
had to be him because he was everything I
needed a man to be: miles away, alien,
uninterested in my fingers laced with his.
He was beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but he
looked better with someone else in his
arms in a candid shot in a celebrity mag
than he would have with me.
All the times afterward it was with women,
sometimes with girls. I still don’t know what
this says about me, or them, but at night I
feel as substantial as my reflection will have
me believe. My mirrors still tell lies now,
different ones, but this time I recognise them
for what they are. It aren’t really my lips that
I paint red now in what will never be Chanel,
but my soul. They say that beauty is only
skin-deep and they might be right
but I will fight to prove them wrong.

growing up was different from what they told me when I was twelve.
on 4 Feb about 5 months ago with 103N
poetry;  ardentdean;  softdean;  okirk;  bravekirk;  non fandom;  this is so personal wtf dont look at me;  

tenderdean:

what are we if not creatures of the black?

on 19 Dec about 7 months ago with 683N
poetry;  non fandom;  
coded by ifallontragedy