creative and innocent

Mother, he touches me as if I am
the silver over which he rules.

Mother, he stares at me as if I am
more fearsome than all the creatures
in his kingdom.

Mother, he worships me as if I am the
only goddess he knows.

Mother, he holds me as if I am fragile
but kisses me as if I am stronger than
Atlas himself.

Mother, his eyes are precious stones
I fear they’re worth more than all my
flowers Above.

Mother, his rare smile shines brighter
than Apollo’s sun.

Mother, he tells me I am a queen and
places a crown of flowers and iron and
bones upon my head.

Mother, his laughter is water and I am
the thirstiest I have ever been.

Mother, his touch is golden and I am

Mother, his anger shakes our kingdom
whole and thrills my very bones.

Mother, he tells me rage is natural and
takes me to his Fields of Punishment to
scream it away.

Mother, he’s shown me even the dead
can bleed and given me control of

Mother, he’s watched me rip limbs from
the dead and kissed the blood from my
fingers and still found me beautiful.

Mother, his skin is ice and I am melting it.

Mother, he is a maze and I have lost
myself in him.

—  Kore

remember i made that post about barakamon-inspired au

what is this au, you ask?

it is an au where old retired hitman reborn moves to japan and is immediately adopted by the local kidlet gang and hijinks ensue. that’s about it. that’s really all i got.

Its funny how ppl still think Phil is this innocent little flower, when really he’s 30 soon, he drinks, has sex, masturbates, he has kinks just like Dan and is a dominant guy!  and yet ppl only see this small part of him.. the ‘childish’ side.

There is so much more to Phil than being cute and adorable and tbh everybody should have a crash course in Phil’s old videos to see what he’s really like!

My younger sister is only 10 years old
And already she knows what it means
To hate oneself and, if you ask her,
She can tell you right away what depression is.

My younger sister is only 10 years old
And she comes up to me asking me
Whether or not she is beautiful-
There are boys in her class who whisper
And she cannot find it in herself to keep her head up.

My younger sister is only 10 years old
And the weighing machine has become her best friend,
She steps onto it every day 
Asking me if the weight shown on the scale
Is the ‘ideal’.

My younger sister is only 10 years old
And when people call her pretty she casts her eyes downwards,
Mumbles a meek 'thank you’ and tells me
She thinks they did it out of courtesy.

My younger sister is only 10 years old
And already people are telling her
That 'if you don’t try to dress pretty people won’t like you’-
I’ve seen her look at my dresses and sigh
That she wished she was pretty enough to pull them off.

My younger sister is only 10 years old
And when I told her I was leaving to college
She cried for hours and told me that people were right
And that no one was going to stick around to love her
Because she wasn’t what people wanted.

My younger sister is only 10 years old
And her heart has been broken too many times
Despite her tender age and status as a child
And you ask me why I’m climbing on rooftops
Screaming 'let children be children’
Because, what people are taking is their innocence
And my younger sister is only 10.

—  s.r. // my younger sister

They ran through the marsh
mud and water shooting up into the air around them.
They pushed through the tall, tall grass
until they skidded to a stop at the edge of the riverbank.

They ran through the marsh
plucked the world from their skin
tangling themselves in summer air
He took her hand
and pulled her down
It’s a game he said

A blindfold tied around her head
Spin her once
spin her twice
spin her three times
He kissed her forehead
It’s a game he said

He stole her laughter
erased her smile
and drained the colours from her world
She got lost in lies and kisses
and gave away memories of warmth and home
It’s a game he said

The water rose
and kept rising
until it stung her eyes
She had nothing to hang onto but promises
Her mouth opened to scream but her voice was slaughtered by the silence
It’s a game he said

I was hopped up on medicine for the common cold when I made this post! The post is slightly wacky and inexplicable, and I’d rather you all believe that my creativity comes from an innocent and accidental abuse of household flu remedies than from any concerted effort on my part!

I rewarded myself for turning 30 by buying a whole box of sedums and sempervivums from my favorite local nursery! And these cuties from @purpletabby arrived in the mail at the same time! Rain or not, I am going to spend a chunk of today weeding and planting, and will hopefully get back into the real swing of things this evening.

The innocence of youth
Voided out
Love was a lie
Never to be reached
Worn out over the years
How much have you got left to give
Soul running on empty
Dystopian heart
Hollow mass of who we were
Standing on the throat of the world
Crushed by ether
Awakened by the bowels of the earth
I am set free from the hand that is as cold as death
With words that could move the oceans
With only a whisper
The will to die was our addiction
The desire to live was our end

I dare you to write about your character going to the place that scares them the most

Be creative! Is it an innocent phobia like the dentist or a horrible one like being stuck in an elevator? Maybe it’s a place they’ve always heard was haunted or a place in the shadows that everyone in the village knows is off-limits.

Think outside the box!

If you’re brave enough to post, don’t forget to tag I dare you to write and indicate whether or not concrit is welcome.