she places her head between your legs and you remember what it means to be worshipped
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@aphroditics
she places her head between your legs and you remember what it means to be worshipped

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you slip your hand between her legs and you learn what your name sounds like as a prayer
recipe for disaster // k.h
ingredients | serves: 1Â
three nights spent in a haze wrapped around each other before the fog lifted and clarity chased the glow awayÂ
five soft smiles that were lost in the limbo between want and need
two hundred and eighty four barely-there, feather-light caresses, stolen while they were asleep
two sets of heartbeats in sync with each otherÂ
one hundred and twelve sweet nothings whispered under the safety net of darkness
one song sung to you as they nursed you back to health, already stripped and choppedÂ
four cups of air you've breathed into each otherÂ
seventy two fleeting moments in which you looked up at their face and you felt your stomach churnÂ
four tablespoons of the sweat that dripped from your bodies and seeped into the sheets that first night you touchedÂ
two willing bodiesÂ
one heartÂ
directions |Â preparation: 8 monthsÂ
step oneÂ
gather one of the two bodies and prop it up against the wooden chair.
step twoÂ
grab the remaining body and lean it against the doorway.
step threeÂ
donât say anything. donât break the spell. donât ruin the recipe. you only have one chance at this.Â
step fourÂ
set the temperature to slow burn for three weeks and let it simmer.
step fiveÂ
once you feel the fire in your veins hot enough to melt glass, the burning in your fingers strong enough to leave a mark, and the bubble in your throat threatening to burst, imagine yourself in a block of ice and swallow up the words that try to slip past your lips. i love you. note: do not let them out.Â
step sixÂ
finely crush the seventy two moments where your stomach had a mind of its own. do not let it show. you canât afford to waste those moments.Â
step seven
mix in the the barely-there caresses and for each lost smile, stir for an additional week, because thatâs how long youâll be thinking of them before you even realise how much space they've taken up inside your mind.
step eightÂ
pour the cups of the air you've shared into a blender for three nights, then mix in the sweat, and place in the fridge to chill. never let them thaw. do not hurt yourself by reminiscing.
step nine
place the heart in your hands and squeeze and squeeze and squeeze until the blood spills onto the broken chopping board that is your rib cage and then throw it away. an empty heart serves no purpose.
step ten
say your prayers and hope for the best. you wanted a love potion, didnât you? youâre in luck, this will only cost your soul.
I want to eat the ambrosia from your fingertips. I want to lick the wine from your lips. I want to suck the nectar from your veins.
ruin me, apollo. make me daphne. // k.h
youâre standing in front of the mirror thatâs still foggy from the steam from the shower thatâs been running for almost 48 minutes and you canât seem to pull away your hairâs unwashed and your skin is sickly and pale you canât even look yourself in the eye you run your hands down your face feeling the bruising around your eyes you run your hands down your throat feeling the burns the rope left behind you run your hands down your chest feeling the skin that will never look the same as before you run your hands down your legs feeling the ghosts of hands clawing at you when you look back into the mirror you donât recognise the woman staring back youâre the empty shell of a woman who lost the war
what happened to you // k.h

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Imagine, if you will, a boy. A boy with dark hair and soft, pretty eyes framed by long lashes. And you want this boy. You want to reach inside him, pull out his still-beating heart, and swallow it whole. You want to peel off his skin, inch by inch, crawl inside of it, and never let go. You want to pull him apart, limb by limb, until you've studied every inch of him. You want him to put his hands inside you. Deep down into parts of yourself you forgot existed. You want him to soothe the ache he left in your chest.
do you think such a boy exists? // k.h
Do you remember the girl with the electric touch? As she placed her hand on the back of your neck, she breathed undiscovered galaxies into your lungs. Do you remember when she traced constellations across your back, and named each one for you. Do you remember when she reached inside of you and plucked the flowers that sprouted from the stardust she left behind, and weaved them into your hair.
galaxy girl with the cosmos in her hand // k.h
My love, are you surprised? When they asked me to pick my poison, I picked you.
I do not worship your human gods. Do not presume to know me. My gods are my own. I do not care for your burning woman. âGreat Prophetâ âLady Redeemerâ âBride of the Makerâ She is nothing to me. The Circles stripped us of our beliefs. Unfamiliar names on our tongues, Like poison forced down our throat. You expect us to bow so easily? You are arrogant in thinking you were the first. We have bled for our land for centuries. Our cities were burnt to the ground. And you built upon the ash, Without a second thought. And you wonder why we rebelled? Do not make the same mistake again. We are not forgiving.
we will rise again // k.h
the mortals have found a new god. our strength is wavering, flickering, soon to be extinguished. like a forgotten match, left to burn. our souls ignite into an uncontrollable fire. ruined temples and desecrated graves. destruction follows them, like flames licking at the remnants of an old age as the ash settles around us. burn them all.
letâs wreak havoc // k.h

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It ends with a scream. A scream that echoes across the entire city. She doesn't sink to her knees. She collapses. It's not beautiful. It's heartbreaking and raw.
It's a cruel thing to have your twin, your soul mate, your world, torn from you. // k.h
lightning flashes and thunder roars. people scatter like livestock. itâs hard to forget who rules the sky. waves reach their crescendo and crash onto the rocks by the beach. itâs hard to forget who rules the sea. the riverman guides souls across styx for a price. weeping souls and anguished cries. itâs hard to forget who rules the underworld.
itâs hard to forget (k.h)
your lips are stained red with his blood. you wake in the night, crying out his name. not from pleasure, from grief. who would have thought you could ever love someone that much? oh brother, you broke your promise. do you remember? when we were seven, and you said that would you never leave me? and where are you now brother? gone. forever. i didn't see that coming brother.
you didnât see that coming // k.h
the first time i kissed you, you tasted of salt and winter. cold, and familiar. and gone by the time i opened my eyes. the last time i kissed you, you tasted of smoke and summer. burnt, and aching. we should have listened when they said nothing lasts forever.
we thought we were the exception (we weren't) // k.h
i donât want to hide what we have in the shadow of the pantheon
unsent love letters; apollo to artemis (via demetiers)

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1. you are not your mother. Â Â Â Â Â you are nothing like her. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â you know this, you know this, you know this. 2. you are not the problem. Â Â Â Â you are the solution. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â you know this, you know this, you know this. 3. you are not weak for hurting. Â Â Â Â you are stronger for it. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â you know this, you know this, you know this. 4. you are not a mistake. Â Â Â Â you are the miracle. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â you know this, you know this, you know this. 5. you are not nothing. Â Â Â Â you are everything. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â you know this, you know this, you know this.
i have five things to tell you and i want you to listen carefully (x) // k.h
write a poem for your fourteen year old self. forgive her. heal her. free her.
Ijeoma Umebinyuo (via theijeoma)