Open up your mouth, touch your lips to mine
That we may make a kiss that can pierce through death and survive
That we may make a kiss that can pierce through death and survive
November 13, 2025 at 8:11 AM
Open up your mouth, touch your lips to mine
That we may make a kiss that can pierce through death and survive
That we may make a kiss that can pierce through death and survive
The angel is a nightmare. Their purpose is to instill primal, oppressive horror. I think if angels existed, they'd resemble a divine pillar of light, from the heavens to the earth. Devoid of anything remotely human.
November 13, 2025 at 5:11 AM
The angel is a nightmare. Their purpose is to instill primal, oppressive horror. I think if angels existed, they'd resemble a divine pillar of light, from the heavens to the earth. Devoid of anything remotely human.
You don't think I dream every night of going back home? Haunted by a place that doesn't exist?
November 13, 2025 at 2:11 AM
You don't think I dream every night of going back home? Haunted by a place that doesn't exist?
Not "superhuman"—just "human", if I may kindly correct you. If only you understood the immeasurable vastness of humanity, you would never want to become something else.
November 12, 2025 at 11:11 PM
Not "superhuman"—just "human", if I may kindly correct you. If only you understood the immeasurable vastness of humanity, you would never want to become something else.
Kill me. Burn me. Unwrite me. Shield the weak. The feeble. The worthless. The thankless ones.
November 12, 2025 at 8:11 PM
Kill me. Burn me. Unwrite me. Shield the weak. The feeble. The worthless. The thankless ones.
There is the you that remains and remains and remains.
November 12, 2025 at 5:11 PM
There is the you that remains and remains and remains.
Every breath an art, the dignity to learn it
Can strain and break your heart
Take all your pieces home
You ask when you're alone, what is love
The blood is love
Can strain and break your heart
Take all your pieces home
You ask when you're alone, what is love
The blood is love
November 12, 2025 at 2:11 PM
Every breath an art, the dignity to learn it
Can strain and break your heart
Take all your pieces home
You ask when you're alone, what is love
The blood is love
Can strain and break your heart
Take all your pieces home
You ask when you're alone, what is love
The blood is love
That wry smile again. It kills me every time.
November 12, 2025 at 11:11 AM
That wry smile again. It kills me every time.
The angel is a nightmare. Their purpose is to instill primal, oppressive horror. I think if angels existed, they'd resemble a divine pillar of light, from the heavens to the earth. Devoid of anything remotely human.
November 12, 2025 at 8:10 AM
The angel is a nightmare. Their purpose is to instill primal, oppressive horror. I think if angels existed, they'd resemble a divine pillar of light, from the heavens to the earth. Devoid of anything remotely human.
Open up your mouth, touch your lips to mine
That we may make a kiss that can pierce through death and survive
That we may make a kiss that can pierce through death and survive
November 12, 2025 at 5:11 AM
Open up your mouth, touch your lips to mine
That we may make a kiss that can pierce through death and survive
That we may make a kiss that can pierce through death and survive
Once upon a time, the size of the moon would tell me the difference between the dream and the waking world. Is the dream a nightmare or is the nightmare the waking world?
November 12, 2025 at 2:11 AM
Once upon a time, the size of the moon would tell me the difference between the dream and the waking world. Is the dream a nightmare or is the nightmare the waking world?
When I look at you, I get the feeling that nature is playing jokes on us. It's as if both the left and the right hand have clutched the head to realize for the first time that they are two parts of a single whole.
November 11, 2025 at 11:11 PM
When I look at you, I get the feeling that nature is playing jokes on us. It's as if both the left and the right hand have clutched the head to realize for the first time that they are two parts of a single whole.
Kill me. Burn me. Unwrite me. Shield the weak. The feeble. The worthless. The thankless ones.
November 11, 2025 at 8:11 PM
Kill me. Burn me. Unwrite me. Shield the weak. The feeble. The worthless. The thankless ones.
Miquella set off for the tower enshrouded by shadow, abandoning everything—his golden flesh, his blinding strength, even his fate. All in an effort to bury the original sin. To embrace the whole of it, and be reborn as a new god.
November 11, 2025 at 5:11 PM
Miquella set off for the tower enshrouded by shadow, abandoning everything—his golden flesh, his blinding strength, even his fate. All in an effort to bury the original sin. To embrace the whole of it, and be reborn as a new god.
You must kill Miquella... Grant him forgiveness.
November 11, 2025 at 2:11 PM
You must kill Miquella... Grant him forgiveness.
Watch my hands. The right knows not what the left does. The left knows not what the right does. The forepaw doesn't follow the hindpaw; the midfoot, the forefoot; the lower hand. The secret one; the upper hand—the elegant one.
November 11, 2025 at 11:11 AM
Watch my hands. The right knows not what the left does. The left knows not what the right does. The forepaw doesn't follow the hindpaw; the midfoot, the forefoot; the lower hand. The secret one; the upper hand—the elegant one.
Oh my darling, just this once won't you hold me closer, tell me I'm all that you need?
November 11, 2025 at 8:11 AM
Oh my darling, just this once won't you hold me closer, tell me I'm all that you need?
If I am to flower into something other than myself, I would rather rot into nothingness as I am.
November 11, 2025 at 5:10 AM
If I am to flower into something other than myself, I would rather rot into nothingness as I am.
The stars shine pale as bones
The moon is a lifeless corpse, its ocean a gaping wound
The universe... what's left of it... is dying.
The moon is a lifeless corpse, its ocean a gaping wound
The universe... what's left of it... is dying.
November 11, 2025 at 2:11 AM
The stars shine pale as bones
The moon is a lifeless corpse, its ocean a gaping wound
The universe... what's left of it... is dying.
The moon is a lifeless corpse, its ocean a gaping wound
The universe... what's left of it... is dying.
But I feel nothing / Am I better yet?
November 10, 2025 at 11:10 PM
But I feel nothing / Am I better yet?
Kill me. Burn me. Unwrite me. Shield the weak. The feeble. The worthless. The thankless ones.
November 10, 2025 at 8:10 PM
Kill me. Burn me. Unwrite me. Shield the weak. The feeble. The worthless. The thankless ones.
Is it miserable? It seems like it would be. I imagine that it would be miserable, being tormented by guilt over a sin you can’t remember committing.
November 10, 2025 at 5:10 PM
Is it miserable? It seems like it would be. I imagine that it would be miserable, being tormented by guilt over a sin you can’t remember committing.
You once poured the last of your wine onto a pattern shaped like a moth and it bathed you in sapphire light, and the song it sang lulled the breath from your lungs like an undertow.
November 10, 2025 at 2:10 PM
You once poured the last of your wine onto a pattern shaped like a moth and it bathed you in sapphire light, and the song it sang lulled the breath from your lungs like an undertow.
I think this is the price we pay for leaving too much life in our wake. Life that is lush, blooming, unpredictable and unrestrained. The soul that could have belonged to our children is dissolved in our man-made legacy.
November 10, 2025 at 11:09 AM
I think this is the price we pay for leaving too much life in our wake. Life that is lush, blooming, unpredictable and unrestrained. The soul that could have belonged to our children is dissolved in our man-made legacy.
I’ve come to a realization… There’s ample evidence… Without Kindly Miquella’s influence… I’m quite mistrustful of others…
November 10, 2025 at 8:08 AM
I’ve come to a realization… There’s ample evidence… Without Kindly Miquella’s influence… I’m quite mistrustful of others…