i have dreams of you asking me better questions,
u were never as curious as i wanted.

my hands only stop shaking when i’m asleep or dissociating. sometimes both

how i look writing 20-page essays defending regulus black like he’s on trial and i’m the last competent lawyer in the wizarding world

не до конца понимаю, когда мне всё равно, а когда просто устала от того, что не всё равно. подозреваю, что второе звучит хуже

how i feel when my irl friends start asking me about my telegram channel like i’m suddenly on an interview or something

“cannibalism is a metaphor for love”, “cannibalism is a metaphor for lust”
ok but when do we admit that sometimes cannibalism is just a metaphor for «i’m so fucking hungry»? and not the poetic kind, not the «i’d die to taste the flesh of the love of my life» kind, just feral and consuming hunger.
though maybe, if it was her,
i’d let myself be devoured.