#dowhp

“if we are monsters then we have always been monsters— simply hiding and wearing masks.”

( graphic by @ofregulusblack​ )

“you have a cold cold smile. you were burned, you were about to burn, you’re still on fire.”

“i am a tiny person with only two hands. i am trying to love the world around decades of war and skittish heartbeats.”

“she reminded me of the sea; the way she came dancing towards you, wild and beautiful, and just when she was almost close enough to touch she’d rush away again.”

         THIS IS A STATE OF GRACE, THIS IS THE WORTHWHILE FIGHT        LOVE IS A RUTHLESS GAME UNLESS YOU PLAY IT GOOD & RIGHT          THESE ARE THE HANDS OF FATE, YOU'RE MY ACHILLES HEEL            THIS IS THE GOLDEN AGE OF SOMETHING GOOD                 AND I NEVER SAW YOU COMING                           AND I'LL NEVER BE THE SAME

✰ unexpectedly bonded by a common language of hurt, masterpieces of suffering fractured to the core. think: early mornings & reheated coffee. cheeks cold from the fresh air, finding unnamed bruises on their knees. starlight. moonlight. 4am. the lake. they each think of their own mother’s promises & the moment is gone as quick as it came. screams fill their shared silence ( s o l a c e ) and the night clings to their limbs. here, here— there are no miracles here.