Latest Posts by xellaneren - Page 2

if I ever made it to the model catwalk, I would find some way to bring a sharp thing on set, and as I emerge, a thing of starved beauty and pure art, dramatically slice my own torso open, ribs exposed, guts splattering to the stage ground, blood spewing all over the front row guests, and most importantly, bleeding my useless life essence all over the expensive, artistic designer clothing I am made to show. A terrible display of art, to bleed as a pig does when sliced at the neck to please the human, the killer. What are we humans but showpieces of greed? May my blood be the color we lust for in the cold claws of winter.

I long to break my own hands

And eat thorns

🦷 I have teeth in my pocket 🦷

Sometimes, I like to pet the teeth.

I love it when I turn back into static late at night

There's something so lovely about the idea of decomposing. A sort of poetry that comes with returning to the earth. Moss taking over my skin, vines tangling into my bones, flowers growing from the nutrients in my blood, animals using me to feed their young. I hope after I die I get to haunt a spot where the forest meets the sea so that I can ominously stand looking over the ocean. I am also content with Haunting a large woods filled with animals that I can spend eternity running with. Life is so beautiful but I feel death will be just as beautiful in its own strange way.

wish i could go missing for a little bit and no one would freak out and then i could come back and they'd be like "did you have fun going missing" and i'd be like "yeah, thanks" and then i could do that every couple of months or so and it wouldn't be a big deal

Where is my home?

I don't recognize the faces anymore.

Where is my friend?

The one I've known since I was only just a kid

I think it's time to say goodbye.

You are never lost in the woods— you have walked in the dapple for too long to truly lose the way. Look to the moss-jowl oaks and you will find familiar faces grinning back, names you almost know. And the ivy slithers as it always has, as foreign-familiar in its formula as a phrase spoken into garble. You might forget, but the rumble of thunder knows the way as it climbs inside your lungs to shake once more. There is no place for certainty when wandering in the woods-- but step where other beasts have stepped, and you will walk assured.

I feel like neither a child nor an adult. I am a botched, failed creature, combining the worst qualities of each. All the helplessness and dependency of a child, with the cynicism and despair of an adult. My mind is stunted, malformed. My body outgrew me and now I wield it clumsily, hitting others with my overgrown arms as I stumble over my own feet. "I am sorry," I say, "But I was treated as something less than human and that is what I've become."

Let the screaming commence

i am actually meant for this world we need more autistic freaks obsessed with death and i must do my part

I want giant soft wings that I can wrap around me to hide

find my skin

I won't burn out here

My intention is to fade

And I will.

T h e y h a v e t o p r o t e c t m e

hello.

I like looking dead

Feeling dead

Being dead

We are s o s m a ll.