and i'll be the wings that keep your head in the clouds

Aries: I envy you. I envy your courage, your stupidity and your childishness. Maybe you’re asking “Why?” Well, wouldn’t it be beautiful if we were all children at heart, like you? Like seeing things so horrible yet still making corny jokes? Like telling your feelings, like running until your feet hurt? Like purity, like innocence mixed with knowledge? You have experienced the world, you have experienced life. And yet, you still stand here. Brave and tall. As if to say “I am not afraid of life. I am not afraid to live.”

Taurus: I will always associate you with flowers and colours. With lilies and roses and blood oranges. I will always associate you with fruit and red-green-yellow. We will speak in colours, talk in words others won’t understand. With red-pink sand and blue-green eyes. An encouraging nod, a hug with clasping hands. Words left unspoken simply ‘cause they were never meant to be said, they were meant to be. They were meant to be. Plucking petals like a grade schooler playing games about love. Holding a magnifying glass over your head, and I could not find a flaw. I just saw you. I saw you.

Gemini: While you drink in the melodies of everyone’s laughter the ghosts find a new home inside your body. A facade of performance, masking out your true emotions. While the hallways turn vacant and your ghosts shut the doors. The voices leave the room empty, the emptiness in your chest weighing like a brick worth thousands of diamonds. I cannot put a price on your heart, I don’t know its colours. I don’t know its voice. Or the three albums you have on repeat over the summer, or the songs you dance to at night. Simply because you are you, unique, mysterious and beautiful.

Cancer: You are a puzzle and I am not your missing peace, I don’t own it. But you do. You make up your own being. Maybe you left it in your back pocket, next to the shattered dreams or under the pillars you build when you were eight years old. The ones you made to put your broken home on, searching for stability in broken mirrors. I will linger in my map of you and I swear that even when I get back it leads back to you. It always leads back to you. To that little house with orange paint on the walls from ten years ago. With the nicotine sticking to a once white ceiling and some kind of animals running around. The dusty photographs will still stand on the desk. You will still sit on that one spot, with teary eyes and crossed legs. And you will still be beautiful.

Leo: I could never describe your beauty. Your beauty cannot be multiplied, it can only be remembered, treasured, envied, appreciated or regretted. And by remembered I mean that when you feel like you are just another extra in someone’s life that they will mention you to their parents during dinner. They will talk about your shining personality and sparkling eyes. By treasured I am talking about that “the one” experience which you deserve. A treasure filled with all things unique and irreplaceable. One that’s filled with happiness. By envied I am talking about the eyes you do not see, or do not wish to see. Or don’t notice. You stand out in a crowd, especially when you don’t think you are. By appreciated I am talking about the ones who see your true you, your tangled hair and cracked lips. The ones who still stay even through the bad times. By regretted I am talking about the people who did not see your beauty until you blossomed. I understand why you find cocoons beautiful now, and how you like caterpillars just as much as butterflies.

Virgo: Snow litters on untouched skin. Sun rains through the cracks of the darkness even where you hide. I could hear you talking every day. Forever. With delicate fingers and blushed cheeks. Your hair untamed and your fingers bruised to the bone. Delicately logical. The edges of the leafs of oak trees remind me of your way of thinking. The overhang reminds me of your mind. Which casts shadows over the villagers in the houses you build where colourless souls reside. You are so often in debate with your own head, at war with your own body. Never at peace, always restless. Always asking, “but why?” I don’t know. You like it, don’t you? Parading around in your own world? Sweet little soul in a world full of pain.

Libra: The bell of the church echoed through your head a little longer than it should’ve. It never was nice. We never played nice. We talked until our lips were dry and I stayed home when you were out cold. But memories don’t matter anymore do they darling? In this orchestra of harmonious noises where you are the leader of everything nothing can hurt you. I don’t know, I don’t know. And goddamnit I know you will try to push everything on yourself again. You always do. That’s just how you work. Why don’t you warm your hands on your own body for once? You don’t need another person to feel like you’re loved, you only need one. One whole, full, true person.

Scorpio: Everything seems darker these days. Charcoal coloured clouds are a daily thing. And your arms are always covered up along with your legs. Even in the summer the nights don’t seem as enchanting. Not when small bruises shaped like the bumps of your knuckles litter on your thighs. Self destructive lullabies, “I just need a friend, for once in my life.” A desire for someone to stay ripped from your lips. So I stayed by your side wondering, if you wanted me to stay or needed me to stay. Of course I could say you remind me of scarlet blood and bathroom tiles. But you also remind of the river I used to play in when I was nine. You also remind me of the necklace I got when my grandmother passed away. You remind me of memories, the good, the bad, the in-between. You remind me of life. Please keep on living.

Sagittarius: The reason that I didn’t cry when you left was because crying means letting go, or so you said. And I don’t want to let you go. I want you to be a part of me, forever. But I can’t do that, you would rot in the hell hole that is my mind. I can’t put you through more cruelty. I hate how I am the reason you cry on bad nights, do you still wonder if I miss you? I do. I do. I do. Regret was stronger than appreciation. But you’re so fucking strong. Your eyes still shine even when you’re sad. You think no one likes you yet you know that’s not true. You’re the reason I am alive. You let me experience pain, beauty, emotion. You let me live. You’re so much more than enough, sometimes I can’t even handle who you are. You are dazzling. But you could never control your heart, it always wandered over the streets of other people’s bodies.

Capricorn: When the sun sets over mountains and the houses made of glass shatter I will still see your name in the sky in neon lights. The little bugs in our home always wanted to be friends with you. They always sat on the tip of your nose with gentle smiles. I never envied you, I wish I treasured you. You are so simplistic and nice. Nice. Too underrated for your own good, no? Aren’t we all. Your hands will still be remembered by those you touched. You always leave some kind of mark that they don’t want to wash off. You have that affect on people. You make them drown their thoughts and hold their breath when you walk into a room. You are an old soul, but you know that. Why? You just do. Because you’re you. And nothing can change that or the late nights, the slowness or the fastness in your walk doesn’t matter for the right people. They will walk for you until they have blathers on their toes. If they don’t you know what to do.

Aquarius: Swirls of icy wind are always your accomplice. You’re cold, and beautiful; like snow. The wires always stick to your senses, they get stuck in between your backbone. They twist around your spine and plug into the back of your brain. You let other people control you like you’re a mindless puppet. I think the wires got the best of you. Whenever you speak your mind it says something beautiful and unique. You are original, not ordinary. I am sorry they teach you that being unique is bad and that you have to fit into this ‘ordinary’ world as an ‘ordinary’ person. Nothing is ordinary about you, not even your name. Your name says who you are as a person, if someone asks me to define you I will simply say your name, the definition of your personality is your name. Because your name is unique and so is your personality. Don’t let other people control you.

Pisces: The imaginary butterflies with the raven black wings told me about you. They tell me that your head is in a universe they have never seen, with all things beautiful and all things bad. They see you crying with your knees tugged up sometimes, hands in your hair as you hide beneath sheets of darkness. You write poetry with the blood in the sink and make galaxies with the stars you find inside other people their eyes. A gentle smile always embraces your lips, “So happy, yet so sad” they say. A mask is something you believe is beautiful, but I believe you are beautiful. The real you. Not the you who cautiously walks over this realm of sadness. Your moonlit hair is so silky, your sunlit eyes are so sad. Chin up little soldier.

—  Letters to the zodiac signs
You once said that a step towards recovery means I’ll need to break myself into pieces, darling I’ve been trying to put my heart back together. I like to step on myself sometimes, I don’t take compliments well because I don’t think too highly of myself. When you step on the same lego piece everyday even your ego starts to melt a little. You once said that if I find someone to hold my thoughts before I hold their heart– then maybe she’s the one. Or maybe there’s no one out there, who knows, right? We can circle around this a little longer than always, but I’ll always run back to the why. Why do I want to conquer my memories? Each city that I’ve built for them inside of my head is still bright and I’ve not let a single light bulb blow out, I’m so out of it– while thoughtlessly I’ve been reaching out of my head, my heart likes to beat me to it. It says that love can only be achieved if I chase after it. You once said that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. Do you still believe in those words? Because if I’m not cruel to myself, I could be cruel to someone else. If I read enough books, do you think I’d finally own a chapter in my own life? If I open up some more, will I close off opportunities for myself to the prospect of loving myself? And what about them? Vanity is my master and I’m a slave. It’s okay to be a little vain sometimes, right? I’ve got it in my veins, maybe I’m the only honest one. You once said that if I trip over the same rock and stub my toe a million times within a week, you’d still say it’s okay. Like falling requires gravity to bend to my whispers. Like drowning demands my lies to swim back to shore. Like dying seeps through my eyes, how can I love if all I’ve got is missing pieces? You once said that a river flows like time and if I’m out of seconds– you’ll just record your voice saying I love you until I finally get it. I remember everything that love has to offer, but never the person. I remember the feeling of infection that is affection. And if I walk alone and get hit by a car, maybe it’s just another story that I won’t write. Some words live in between the lines, I’ve been seeing dualities. Life and death is just a kiss and hug. Black and white, storms and clouds are just pears and apples. Poetry and prose likes to sound sweet, but it’s the bitter bits of me that’s suicidal. Love and hate was born from strangers, so you never knew the difference between the moon and the sun– the lightness of tomorrow likes to coat the darkness of past days. Cigarettes and lung cancer, a dance of smoke that disguises itself as stress free, do you think I’ll die healthy? Drugs and my body, which one will make me feel better if I’ve been sweating for a week? You once said that we’re spinning around in a circle just waiting for someone to stop by– grab my attention and you can have my voice, steal from my hands and you can have my poems, which hurts more to have loved or to not have loved at all? An empty silence that’s so full of itself– I can’t hear myself think inside of my own head. I’ve got file cabinets tagged under read later, but I’m a sucker for love– so I feed into it. You once said if the sky breaks into a brighter day, you’ll be there. That is wishful thinking, my favorite kind. Words can’t give meaning to our story, but we still write. You once said that it has to mean something. Every statement paused long enough for several lifetimes to become real again. It feels like such a long time, but we’re still in love with them in there somewhere. It’s buried. It’s in a coffin, but it’s there and we know it. We can hear it. We can hear it. Fuck, we can hear it. That little beating that isn’t ours, it’s always theirs. And that’s my fear, you once said that maybe that’s my fate– I’m supposed to cling onto that strand of innocence, of who I used to be, to remember what it feels like to feel, it has to mean something. Giving meaning to nothing, my favorite pastime. Giving something to someone, the only way that I’ve been living. You once said that until I learn to keep more for myself, I’ll always end up in square one– alone, but as long as I’ve got you, it’s not true, right? Some thoughts like to sleep alone, that’s not one of them. Hold onto that piece of us, the poetic storm that is joy. Keep your kindness to a burn, a stretched out sunrise screaming your name is my simmer. I know about nothing and that’s my one redeeming quality. I know that I don’t know shit, and that’s why I write like this. I know that I don’t love like I used to, and that’s why I love like this. I know that I’m not the same person from last year, and that’s why my guilt likes to trip up. I know that I’m no longer in love with her, but I can’t seem to explain the empty feeling unless I spell her name backwards under a star somewhere that I can’t touch. I know that I’m still messed up, but I’m just taking advantage of my youth. You once said some people will get over you in a week, but it’ll take you a lifetime to get over someone. If forever is a drug then I’ve overdosed. If always is a lie then I’ll take the beautiful. If never is more and a secret is sore– then I’m sorry about the words that didn’t stop, I am trying. I am always trying. You once said that if we kiss the ocean long enough, the mountains will answer. I’ve buried my love letters on the highest mountain and emptied my heart into my art. If I live long enough to spread my wings, do you think I’d still be condemned? Life is too short to live in the past, but I can’t stop asking about my what ifs. Love is too long to just be over, but I’ll just keep painting over it with a new layer of red. If you’re still reading, then I’m still writing. This yin and yang battle of ours has no meaning. Tortured souls live in the canvas and I’ve seen enough chains– I shall be unbound someday. You once said I love you– darling, that’s the only fucking truth that I believe in. You once said that soulmates aren’t always lovers– I guess it’s just you. You once said that flowers don’t just bloom, they wilt– so I guess I’m just withered. You once said that if you had your way, I’d own the universe. You don’t get it. When you became my best friend, I got it.
—  You once said
Vanilla Twilight

A/N Based off the song by Owl City! @lampisimportant​ this was mostly written for you but like that’s sappy so I’m just gonna tag you and stop rambling okay bye.

Pairing: moxiety (Morality/Anxiety)

Genre: fluff, AU, human AU, long-distance relationship

Word Count: 1340


Ann can’t sleep, but he can’t exactly text his boyfriend either. Instead, he chooses to miss him.

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When I was young and still living in the naive assumption of the reality of boundless possibilities and opportunities; the notion that we are in a constant state of evolution and that we thereby can be anything we’d ever want to be – if only we set our minds to it and work for it tirelessly – I used to dream of soaring far above the clouds; of spending my adult days on a level of freedom obtained by some and envied by many; to perceive the earth and all its splendor along with the many architectonic masterpieces of man as mere miniatures from the cockpit of a Cessna, a Chinook or Apache; an A-10 Thunderbolt, or a Boeing 747.
How I longed to fly; a desperate need only marginally fulfilled by Microsoft’s Flight Simulator, for which I remember nagging my mom and dad to get me a Logitec Wingman joystick tediously. There was a near religious level of devotion and dedication which had nestled deep inside me to be that man in the air; a sense of purpose I have never been able to recreate entirely. I set out to know every airplane in existence, collected the miniature scale models, subscribed to every magazine. I did it all. All for nothing.
There was this kid, you see, who joined our group in the last year of elementary school. And at the time each student was rotated in giving a lecture on a subject that caught their fascination. He did his about his dream of becoming a pilot. And I remember being jealous and feeling stupid for not having claimed the subject prior to this new kid’s arrival. However he did not speak much about the wide variety of airplanes; the soaring far above clouds; the ultimate freedom of man. He explained to us all what it would take to be a pilot. And as I was checking off the list of preconditions during his lecture; self-assured and knowing I met all the requirements, I froze during its last part: visual impairments.
Do you remember that time your first dream got shattered? For I remember clearly how he talked about his poor eye-sight and how he would never meet the standard of becoming a pilot; how he would pour every essence of his being in becoming an air traffic controller, only to come as close to the dream as possible. The rest is hazy because it came as such a shock to me, but to summarize the information that was then new to me: colourblind people cannot become pilots. Goddammit. I was colourblind. And that’s when I started swimming. Without any destination. Trotting water for the sake of keeping my head above it. In hindsight, life became a postponed drowning ever since then.
Why am I telling you all of this? Because I want you to know that I was born with one single goal; to soar above the clouds and see the world turn into a miniature version of itself; that I have been craving this greater freedom ever since my first thoughts established themselves; that I have cursed this figmental reality of boundless possibilities and opportunities; the notion that we are in a constant state of evolution and that we thereby can be anything we’d ever want to be – if only we set our minds to it and work for it tirelessly. I’m telling you this because you haven’t half the idea of what you’ve given me.
As I stood in awe to be toe-to-toe with you, feeling myself being lifted higher than any cloud or plane could ever reach; well beyond the stratosphere, even beyond the endless void’s boundaries, where no astronaut had ever ventured; never coming remotely close to the places where you’ve taken me. With one single glance. With one single kiss. You carried me. And I was yet again struck with an almost religious sense of devotion and dedication; with a sense of destiny that for so long had been taken away from me, leaving a void in my existence.
After fifteen years of purposeless agony, you resurrected the pilot in me. And even though you left, you’ve shown me the virtue of growing my own wings. So that I might ultimately have that freedom which I have craved ever since my first day on earth. A freedom that is only obtained by some, and envied by many. You’ve shown me how to love, my dear. And for that I am eternally grateful.
—  The flight, by M.A. Tempels © 2017
Eternity with you



                         Nothing shakes my soul quite like your love

                        Its weakness takes me over, pulls me under

                                           If we’re drowning

                          I hope we never reach the surface again

    And the glittering lights will break in shards against the soles of our feet

                                         As we dive deeper

                                        If we only die once

                                       I want to die with you

When his eyes open for the second time, he finds that breathing is so much easier. His body feels soft, inconsistent, but he tilts his head and Naruto is there. Right where he’d landed, but the swelling and bruising on his face has disappeared as if it had never existed.

“Where are we?” Naruto asks, glancing at him, “Could this be… heaven?”

“You tell me,” he answers, sweeping his eyes over empty space. “Everything looks… hazy.”

And it is true. The air around them seems to shimmer, as if they are surrounded by invisible water, no color, no sound, simply nothingness.

Patting what is supposedly the ground next to him with one hand, Naruto slowly sits up, fascinated by the ripples of liquid smoke that brushes his skin.

“We got our arms back,” Sasuke observes, and Naruto sends him a sharp look, sharp enough to tear right through him.

“So we can still fight.”

Giving the other boy a look of disbelief, Sasuke smiles despite himself. When Naruto’s face scrunches up with the first signs of anger, he laughs.

“Even after all this, here of all places, you still want to fight me?”

“Of course!” Naruto shuffles closer to him, staring down into his eyes. “I’ll take you on any time!”

Sitting up as well, Sasuke rubs his left eye with a slightly shaky hand, feeling strangely empty with all the pain gone from his system.

“No, I’ll admit it. This was my loss.”

For a second, though considering time seemed irrelevant here it might have been considerably longer, they stare at each other. Then Naruto shouts, his voice echoing off invisible walls.

“You stupid asshole! As if you could win or lose this fight! This is between friends, and I said I’d smack some sense into you! The real fight comes after that!”

Sighing, Sasuke feels another smile grace his lips.

“Hey, Naruto… If we’re dead, then that eternal destiny the sage of the six paths talked about has ended, hasn’t it? I’m sure the infinite tsukuyomi has dispelled…”

Silence settles between them once again, but through it, Sasuke can sense Naruto’s heartbeat, a calm and steady beat, much unlike the struggling rhythm it had the last time they talked.

“So in the end, you never did leave me alone.”

Reaching out a hand, Naruto runs a finger down Sasuke’s cheek, an unreadable look on his face. His eyes trace his features as his fingers run along his jaw in a caress that, rather than exciting, feels so reassuring that Sasuke has to wonder how he lived without it before.

“I told you,” Naruto says quietly, tugging slightly so that he has no choice but lean forwards. “I just can’t leave you alone.”

Sasuke knows that logically, his body should react to Naruto’s words. His heart should clench painfully, his limbs should feel weak, his breath should hitch… Instead, gentle warmth settles within his chest, whispering to him in gentle caresses.

“We’re dead, Naruto,” he breathes, raising a hand to brush along Naruto’s fingers. “You can tell me the truth.”

Naruto smiles then, a smile that seems to light him up from inside, a smile that envelopes Sasuke in its brightness.

“But you already know, don’t you?”

The world swirls around them, colors of velvety black and glittering yellow and red and green ripping through the haze, expanding so fast it feels as if Sasuke’s mind has expanded with it.

He intertwines his fingers with Naruto’s, the connection keeping his soul steady since his body might float away.


They stand up then, Naruto gripping his hand tightly, bringing him with him like a guiding light through the flickering vastness. Each step creates sparkling colors that washes over their bare feet, the air is soft when it fills their lungs but like fluttering butterfly wings when they exhale, though this barely registers in the back of his mind.

All he sees is Naruto.

All he feels is Naruto.

And he knows that Naruto feels the same.

Eventually, they reach a place where the not-really ground billows and surges with glossy darkness, seemingly sinking downwards. As they stop, Sasuke can feel a light pull calling for him, like a thread of his brother’s chakra curling around his ankles.

“What do you think it is?” Naruto asks, tilting his head in contemplation.

“Maybe… it’s for us. If we want to move on.”

They glance at each other, electric blue clashing with swirling black. Then Naruto raises his head towards the left, and Sasuke follows his gaze to find more nothingness filled with clusters of colorful, wispy clouds.

“Or we could take a walk,” Naruto suggests, looking back at him.

“We could be walking around for eternity,” Sasuke argues, causing Naruto to let out a brilliant laugh.

“Bastard, here I offer to walk with you for eternity, and you’re going to argue with me that it’s too long? We’re dead, what does it matter if it’s for eternity or an hour?”

Gnawing on his lips, Sasuke mulls the thought over, weighs the pros and cons of being stuck with Naruto for possibly eternity.

“I guess, if it’s you… I don’t mind eternity.”

Giving his hand an encouraging squeeze, Naruto steers him towards the left, away from the dark waterfall.

“You know, we’ve got stuff to talk about. And you wanted to talk to me anyway, right? I have to tell you about Ero-sennin, and everything that happened in Konoha, and chasing after you…”

His words fade, but Sasuke smiles all the same.

“I’d like that.”

And considering how much Naruto can talk, he wonders if eternity will be enough.

i wanna confess// finnpoe pt. 1

In which Poe is infatuated with Finn, but Finn’s oblivious so Poe internalizes it and is dying™.

This, Poe thought decidedly, was going to be the death of him.

He’d come face to face with the First Order’s biggest baddie, had had him inside his head- the insides of his mind invasively scraped away at, escaped in bursts of gunfire, crashed into the isolated dunes of Jakku, blasted his way through the war front of Takodana, and even taken down Starkiller Base in a massive explosion. 

But in all his years of fighting and soaring through the stars for the resistance, all the years of freezing the instances between life and death and squeezing out of situations he should never have gotten into in the first place,  Poe had never been in this much danger before.

Finn stood on the other side of the hanger, the large doors drawn open to reveal the inky black backdrop of the night sky, ducking around all the battleworn x-wings and calling Poe’s name only to have it echo back towards him after bouncing off the arched metal ceiling.

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