I keep forgetting that the 10th of September is the suicide prevention day
To me, it's the beginning of feeling suicidal
Ironic
To me, it's the beginning of feeling suicidal
Ironic
❤2💘1
Forwarded from 𝑹𝒆𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓐𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻 ☀︎︎❥︎)
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It was September but whatever
Dazai and Gogol
Dazai and Gogol
❤🔥2
ɴᴏᴛᴇs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ
Yes I'm reading smut for school
Me too
Except my textbooks cover dark themes such as dubious consent, where I am not asked to be a part of this misery but rather assumed to enjoy it nonetheless.
Except my textbooks cover dark themes such as dubious consent, where I am not asked to be a part of this misery but rather assumed to enjoy it nonetheless.
Forwarded from 𝑹𝒆𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (🂱 نداء)
Things
Glass is not dangerous untill it's broken
Like glass—fragile and clear, reflecting beauty and light, until shattered, becoming sharp, cold, and unforgiving. Handle with care for once broken, it cuts deep.
❤1
My skin's not black, and yet I feel if I
Were to descend the icy night that not
A single soul would see me passing by
His eyes. Would you? Or would you too be caught?
Inside the earth or stars and never feel
What's in between? It's of no consequence.
For if I ever pass, you'll know I'm real
And sight or sound will not be influenced
To make seem true what isn't there, I'll just
Appear, in darkness or in light, and you
Can speak in hollow tones until I trust
Your reason but is reason always true?
Can words express my needs and wants in terms
Of their intensity? Will deeds confirm?
Were to descend the icy night that not
A single soul would see me passing by
His eyes. Would you? Or would you too be caught?
Inside the earth or stars and never feel
What's in between? It's of no consequence.
For if I ever pass, you'll know I'm real
And sight or sound will not be influenced
To make seem true what isn't there, I'll just
Appear, in darkness or in light, and you
Can speak in hollow tones until I trust
Your reason but is reason always true?
Can words express my needs and wants in terms
Of their intensity? Will deeds confirm?
❤2
Little girl grown
paining
like a woman
free but alone.
Painting
her desires
on a whim.
Detached
from her past.
The future's dim.
Unattached
and uninspired.
Rusty wagon wheel
by the creek.
Gazing and dazed
to feel
so weak
so young
and so tired.
paining
like a woman
free but alone.
Painting
her desires
on a whim.
Detached
from her past.
The future's dim.
Unattached
and uninspired.
Rusty wagon wheel
by the creek.
Gazing and dazed
to feel
so weak
so young
and so tired.
❤2
-Tender Bough, poem collection
Mary Lee Gowland, 1969
Posing For My Father
Mary Lee Gowland, 1969
Posing For My Father
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