✩ari✩

We Will Never

We will never kiss, never taste the unspoken words lingering on each other’s lips.

We will never hold hands, never feel the silent promises resting in the warmth of touch.

We will never embrace— no arms, no solace, no soft collision of two bodies searching for refuge in each other.

We will never.

We will never make love, because I do not love myself enough to offer anything to you— not my skin, not the soul I buried beneath layers of shame.

Because I am a coward, hiding behind fear, too proud, too broken, to give what you ask.

The Lord says do not deny one another, but what if I am made of denial? What if my very existence is withholding?

I will never be the woman you dream of. I will not carry your children, or share the warmth of your bed, or hold your hand as we watch our family grow.

I will not sit beside you and admire the life you built, because I will not let you see what I am.

It would be cruel to subject you to it.

And I know cruelty well. It hums in my reflection, festers in the marrow of my being. I am its child, its creation.

The sight of myself sickens me. I hate what I am with a violence that roars beneath my quiet.

I bury my anger in the cracks of my foundation, hide my rage beneath obedient shame. I swallow it whole.

You will never touch me, because you will not want to.

We will never truly know each other— not in the way souls intertwine.

But our eyes, our eyes will rebel.

They will undress what I keep hidden. They will touch where my hands refuse. They will hold each other in a silent, endless dance—

a private rebellion against the disgust I built.

-ari

A message for you🫵:

You need to shave your armpits

Don’t you know that not crying can lead to drowning

Sometimes it feels necessary 

Sometimes not crying can feel like trying to fly

If you don’t shave them hair will knot and tangle

Sometimes hollow objects can produce the loudest of noises 

You need to shave your armpits 

And sometimes the absence of canned beans can be devastating 

You need to stop shaving your armpits 

Rigid stances and hose nozzles thrown

If you shave them too much they might itch 

Whispered apologies and scared cats tell too many lies

You need to stop shaving your armpits 

Projectors don’t hurt but they remember 

Razor burns and regrowing hair rub against skin 

You need to stop shaving your armpits or what should thrive will snarl

Ignorance really is death because tell me why my friend tole me that this girl he knows (she's christian btw) told him that her, along with her entire family, would send him to a CONCENTRATION CAMP because he's gay. LIKE HELLO? The crazier thing is that he started defending her saying that it wasn't her fault because that's how she was raised. This isn't just how "someone was raised" it's violent and dehumanizing. There's a responsibility that falls onto us the moment we decide to follow something/someone. People like her choose to remain ignorant and naive by not picking up their bible and reading. They don't make sure to have all the facts about everything they're being taught. They don't know if it's actually biblical. Like maybe what my parents said about gay people being sent to concentration camps just because they're gay isn't what Jesus taught. I'm not saying that you should rebel against your parents or point fingers, all I'm saying is to QUESTION, INVESTIGATE, AND LEARN. Don't just give something or someone your blind devotion and follow them like sheep. You'll find that Jesus' teachings are completely different to what some of these modern day ted talkers are now "preaching". This also applied to these outdated opinions that some people have like saying that women can't or shouldn't be pastors. Like it slowly builds up until ignorance becomes death and we're sending everything we don't understand to hell. So please, be curious, be wary of things, you won't loose faith by learning; if anything you'll gain something from it.

-ari

no se quiere sin miedo al resentimiento no se hablar sin herir aunque mis palabras se arrastren suplicando ser suaves

a veces creo que no merezco la calma ni los ojos que me miran con tanta esperanza

he lastimado sin querer y a veces queriendo y eso pesa como un nudo que no se suelta en el centro de mi como un espejo que no quiero mirar porque devuelve algo roto

me alejo antes de que me echen grito antes de que hieran y en ese ciclo me convierto en todo lo que juro no ser

no es que no quiera ser mejor es que algo en mi, viejo, callado y frío no deja de recordarme que nací equivocada

y aun así, aquí estoy sintiendo deseando no ser esta versión de mi pero sabiendo que por ahora lo soy

tell me about despair and i’ll tell you about the sickening twists of my soul every time i think.

tell me about despair and i’ll tell you how my anger suffocates me, how i drink my bitter words, how they burn down my throat, past my lungs.

tell me about despair, i’ll tell you how my spirit claws toward eternity while my bones passionately sink toward the grave— yearning for a fire i was always meant to perish in.

-ari

P.S. this was originally called “Tell Me, Tell You”

a meesage for you:

I am the pause between thunder and its sound. The muscle drawn back, never loosed. The note the throat holds, but never sings.

I am the spark locked in glass — visible, bright, but untouchable. I am blueprint, not building. Swell, not storm. A scream coiled in breath, a gesture that never becomes a hand.

I exist in outlines — shadows of movement without the grace of motion.

They name me “promise,” but I am not promised anything. Only held. Held in pause. Held in the ache of becoming. In the ache of “not yet.” And maybe never.

I rot in the readiness. So much force. So little freedom. All the weight of fire with nothing to burn.

There is no glory here. No beauty in waiting. Only pressure folding in on pressure.

I am not the silence before the music. I am the silence after the orchestra forgot to play.

And still they look at me — and call me potential. As if that's not just another word for unfinished.

-ari

a message for you: