Acheiropoieton, Still Alive In The Crypt.

Our love is a painful kind, like a death from a thousand bites.

I feared to hurt you whole, so you offered for a piece.

One bite turned to two, until my stomach was half-filled with you.

My hunger never ceased, yet you let me.

Because you were kind like that.

I’m full of you.

A poem I wrote for my farcille zine ‘Devourer of My Flesh’ I also really like this illustration I made in particular.

flesh avatars will look at the physical forms of both themselves and others and ask "is anybody gonna twist this beyond recognition?" and then not wait for an answer

first kiss

scp 127 from scp sl fanart (human headcanon)

Everyone always talks about The Flesh and its potential to relate to the transgender experience (and, well, as of the latest episodes of TMAGP, that's been canonly explored) but also: what about the experience of growing up fat?

Sucking in your stomach in pictures. Pinching the skin under your chin because you don't want to have a double chin. Noticing another stretch mark during puberty and ignoring it, storing in the farthest corner of your mind. The way your legs look in pictures. The way your tights look when you sit down. Keeping an arm constantly on your stomach. Noticing that you're slumping and straightening your back so the rolls are less noticeable.

Oh, and the nasty part. The comments other kids make. The comments your parents make. The awareness of not being curvy, just being fat. Plain fat. Wanting so bad to be desirable, by someone, anyone, but you're not skinny. You're not curvaceous, voluptuous, really your body is just...unflattering. The self-esteem issues. Thinking that every single picture of you is ugly, wretched, as you see others taking pictures of themselves so...casually. Fixating on the most miniscule parts of it all, the way your fingers aren't as slim as others', the way you look when you smile, the softness in you that you so deeply despise because it's not appealing. Not attractive. And it's all you want to be.

And don't even get me started on the intersection of being fat and trasmasc, that's a whole other can of worms.

Cannibalism as a metaphor for I Was Hungry

Wywewnętrznianie/Spilling guts (2025)

Medium: paraffin and decorative straw over a childhood diary

Homophobia in his eyes

Sheol, oil on glass with wood frame by Kim Jakobsson

Where I post from.