She Rests In The Arms

so soft it hurts

I hold my brother on my lap,

I don't tell him to calm,

Or hush his sobs,

He does that himself.

I cannot stop his world ending,

But I am his sister, and as long as I stay,

He has a part of his world still there.

She does not know

how I love her with the kind of ache

that gnaws through bone

and drinks from the marrow.

Even when her smile blooms

for another's dawn,

I gather my own ruin

just to make her laugh,

as if her laughter

could stitch the torn seams

of my unraveling soul.

I do not touch her skin

to feel warmth...

I touch her silence,

her chaos,

her dreams curled like fists in sleep.

When I kiss her,

my lips meet her heart,

I am drinking from the chalice

of every life she’s lived before me.

I am not licking her body,

I am tasting her soul.

I am not undressing flesh,

I am peeling open the pages

of her heart’s forbidden scriptures,

reading with reverence

the verses no man has dared recite.

Our love,

if it can be called that,

is no polished jewel.

It is a rose

born in rot,

drowned in rain,

fed by sorrow,

suffocated in shit,

burnt by longing.

Still, it grows,

bloody petals,

razor-edged thorns,

aching upward for a sun

that forgets it daily.

She wounds me without malice,

yet I kneel in thanks.

Each time she leaves,

she takes the breath

but leaves the lungs,

so I may remember

what drowning in her felt like.

Even now,

knowing I will never be

the reason her eyes glow,

I carve poetry from pain

to gift her joy,

like a madman

plucking out his own ribs

to build her a cradle of light.

Let the last tree fall,

let the stars bleed out

in the throat of the sky.

Let the oceans forget their names,

and even after they become dust,

I will still love her;

not because she is mine,

but because loving her

taught me how to survive

a fire that asks for nothing

but to burn

and burn

and burn.

She is not mine.

She is no one's.

But I am hers...

even after the last songbird

chokes on dust.

-Cyrus K

“One smile can start a friendship. One word can end a fight. One look can save a relationship. One person can change your life.”

— Unknown

“I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.”

— Og Mandino

I do not believe there is a more dangerous and destructive force in all the world than hope, but I do not believe there is a more necessary or perfectly beautiful one either.

Tyler Knott Gregson

2 April, 1937 Letters to Véra by Vladimir Nabokov

Beautiful creature 👽

You definitely are 🖤🖤🖤

Blacklit Sky

Iam ridiculously jealous at the moments

you give to her instead of me

and that

your hand will never reach mine

except through

my mind

my shadow and yours

collide

not by chance

but by some forgotten vow

etched in stardust

and sealed in sleep

our eyes look up the same sky

over and over again

untill the orbs meet

for the first time

as if the heavens are tired

of holding our longing

my velvet fire embers

and your hues of ocean

dancing across the sky

that never noticed

between the void

and the constellations

above the world

entwined

for a lifetime