fire burn the ice


How could you be so near
And still so far; love
Descending like Pluto through my heart
I have finally understood the difference between
The burn of fire
And of ice
I fall always
Into a space
Where nothing exists
Not even silence
Nor the scream
Not even ashes swept out into the ink black of the endless night


There is nothing, I looked
Through Urania’s Mirror and saw you
Saw the shape
Our bodies would have made
Illuminating in unison
I looked for heaven
And heard a chorale of ecstasy
But it sounded like the distance
Of your favourite song playing in someone else’s home
And a woman’s laugh
As I walked by on the street below
Nobody claps for that kind of hollow fidelity


History is the stories we tell each other
Where we collapse all the fullness neatly into one facet
But nothing ever is one alone
Not even me walking the streets at night
I have never felt unsafe in the darkness
Like I did in your light
You exposed me and I wanted to form a different image
Would you have loved me if I were less?
I haven’t had my haircut since you left and eventually I will disappear
Like the sound of laughter from your hearing
Like silence
Like the night
In another facet
The sun doesn’t rise but you slow dance around it
To somebody else’s favourite song
And later, that person wakes from a strange dream where they were nothing


Did you see NASA discovered that Pluto has a heart?
Have you ever been that lonely?
That misunderstood?
Even science cannot calculate the parameters of love
Or what it needed to survive
Even science has never been that cold in bed at night


I was walking through the dark back streets of time
When it slipped and I fell in
I could hear everything
But through a wall
I could even hear your dreams
I just could not touch them
I float on the skin of the sea between
Australia and Antarctica
In the shape of the cross
Staring up at our bodies
My skin was blue and marble white
There was no heart
Only the burning of ice


In another facet
I was gold
I was the ring around your finger
You would rise up to me every morning
And we would slow dance every night


In another facet
I cut my hair


In another
There was a science to the way I broke


In another
I was the sea water


In another
I could hold you up


In another
I was the salt of your earth


In another
I was the song that played
In your dreams


In years from now
NASA will discover that


In this one
I was the ecstasy
You came to the lip of
But never kissed
I was the fire
You didn’t want
When you were cold


Delete her number.
Stop ringing her. Stop messaging her. Stop making excuses to see her, to drop by her place.

Erase her name from memory. Remove yourself from her life, more completely than you would like but as completely as she deserves. Move on, so that you can allow her to also move on. When you close your eyes, you don’t get to see her face. Not anymore. You don’t get to think about her lips, the warm glow of her skin when she rests next to you, or how she squeezes your hand in her sleep. You are not allowed to remember the smell of her perfume, that she only drinks mint tea (with two dollops of honey), or that she loves you.

She loves you.

She has been in love with you for too long.

So, forget how she says your name. Forget how she calls your name. Forget how she screams your name. Forget that time you got sick and she stayed up with you all night, letting you lay your head in her lap and holding a cold compress to your forehead. Forget how her hair feels in your fingers. Forget how she looks in your sweatshirts.

Forget her.

Know only that she existed at one point in your life, but relinquish all hope that she could exist at another point — sometime in the future that you are unwilling to specify because you don’t know what you want. Yet. It is not fair for you to swoop in and out of her life as you choose. It is not fair for you to say that you are satisfied with “things as they are” and you will have time to “figure it out” later. Let her stop investing emotionally in you. Let her pour that love and care into the people who deserve her.

Don’t tell her that you think about her all the time. Don’t tell her that it bothers you to hear about her with other people, but that you’re willing to understand as long as she likes you more than them. Don’t tell her that this isn’t the right moment but that there will be a right moment. There is not going to be a right moment. She shouldn’t have to wait for the right moment.

Don’t tell her that you can’t handle ultimatums, that you don’t like the idea of finally adding finality to your relationship — whatever still remains of it.

What you are telling her is that you want to keep her on as an option, that you are taking her for granted, that you want to know she will be there, that you can depend on her at the end of the day. When you find that no one else has stuck around or that those who have are less interesting, less thoughtful, or less doggedly loyal to you.

Doggedly loyal to you.

That is what she has been to you, for you almost as long as you have known her: a constant emotional crutch, the guarantee of stability, a safety net while you reachvout to grasp objects that sparkle and shine far greater than she does. All that glitters is not gold, haven’t you heard?

She is fire. You are ice, and you are afraid that her slow burn will smolder your cool, hard demeanor. That’s what has driven your decisions, your actions all along: fear. You are a coward. You are a hypocrite. You are terrified to let her go, but you are afraid she is too good for you, that she could drive you wild, that you would choke on her flames. That she is too much for you to handle right now.

Right now.

But if you choose not to love her now, you can’t choose to love her later.


Mchanzo Week day 4: Red and Blue

Fire and Ice

He burns through trauma like a fire. He destroys the memories, without remorse, without care. He is happy to be rid of these thoughts, and does not dwell on the loss of them, but on certain days, amid certain thoughts brought on by loneliness and fear, he will look back upon the charred remains of it’s destruction, and feel a tinge of remorse, of vulnerability, of pain. He will, by any means, distract himself from his own thoughts, and will endanger himself in a vain attempt to spark another fire, to rid those thoughts, yet to no avail. Only the frigid cold of ice can slow the flames enough for him to look back upon his life, and see it clearly enough to reflect, mourn, and truly be at peace.

He locks trauma like ice. He stores it, keeps it in a cage, keeps it visible and open, like a wound. He dwells on the memories, unable to move due to the unbearable cold. He keeps himself prisoner, in an attempt to atone for his past sins. He will fill himself with only the pain of guilt and will find himself unable to shelter from the cold, as the open, frigid wounds eat him away until there will be nothing left, and render him unable to make himself whole again. Only the warmth of fire can melt away the guilt enough for him to move once again, and look on to new beginnings and a new life, and truly be at peace.

Headcanons: How Sandor Clegane acts around his crush

Request:  “could you do a headcanon for how Sandor would feel and act if he had a crush on the reader?”
Author’s Note: Thank you for requesting <3 this is me rn:

• Let me start this with: he is abrasive as hell, even a bit more than usual.

• This man is not processing his emotions properly, he never learnt how.

• He will almost try to avoid you. But he wants to protect you so??

• He will never let you come into harms way. Ever.

• He will never meet your eyes while talking to you

• On the topic off talking, he will give short answers and only speak when spoken too at first. Also expect cursing. He has even less of a filter in this state.

• What is this state, you ask? This boy is  F L U S T E R E D 

• You are like a deity in his eyes. Your kindness? Incredible. Your smile? Amazing. Your kind touches? hELP HIM!! 

• He cannot deal with someone as wonderful as you being so nice to a ‘monster’ like him

• After a while of bottling this up, there will be something of an argument between you two and he will blurt out his feelings.

• After that things move at a classic GRRM Glacial pace towards a happy ending for you both. haha! Slow burn for yooooou

if Shakespeare had written you, you’d be Juliet
with fair features and soft hands,
this whole world would love you like their own
Maya Angelou could write you stronger
she’d pick you up and set you free
you’ve always been a caged bird, and caged birds need to sing
Edgar Allen Poe would write you darker
he’d give you pale hands and veins so dark they’d be rivers
he’d make you a Dream Within a Dream; with blue eyes deeper than his City in the Sea
if Walt Whitman had written you, you’d be green
green with envy, green, like the Leaves of Grass in the sun
your heart would beat Drum-Taps and your very flesh would be a poem
Robert Browning would have written you with a whisper of confession
he would have written you with love, hope, fear, faith
you would have been his humanity
if Natalie Diaz wrote you she’d probably make you wild
she’d write you, babydoll eyes and bubble gum cheeks
you’d be her journal of metaphors and her box of hyperboles
Robert Frost would have made you burning
you’d be fire dipped gold and ice covered isolation
a beautiful mix of rock, water, bone
and everything else a mountain is made of

but you wrote yourself hidden
buried yourself in the constellations and drowned yourself in grey moon reflections
you wrote yourself simply, when all these poets I’ve ever studied would have made you a masterpiece

—  C.P. || All These Poets
Rivals Title References

Over the past few weeks I’ve been re-reading umfb&mha to plan out obs&bh and I thought it would be interesting to write a list of all the times I’ve made a reference to the titles of either fic in the fics themselves. So for anyone who is interested here are all the times I could think of while doing a quick re-read (there may be more I’ve missed out but I think I’ve got most of them).

Keep reading

Tending to the Fire (Nessian Collab, Part Two)

So as promised a couple of weeks ago, @tacmc and I have been working on a Nessian collab. As of right now, it is only two parts, but it could end up with more if there is request for it! There’s nothing we enjoy more than getting to work with our best friend.

Part 1 can be found HERE, in Nesta’s POV, from my ultra-talented bff, @tacmc.

Part 2 is from Cassian’s POV.

Keep reading


Oh my gosh! I just remembered Veronica’s speech in episode one, you know the “you wanted fire, sorry my specialty’s ice”? Well Cheryl tried to kill her self by drowning in a frozen over river and the only person she texted was Veronica. Also Cheryl the burned down her house. Cheryl’s specialty is fire and Veronica’s is ice and that links perfectly with why she would text Veronica as the last person who she talks to because despite being frienemies and complete opposites Cheryl trusts Veronica with everything from her cheerleading squad to her final words.