girls who wear pearls

Pandora opened the box
and let evil rampant
Eve ate an apple
and fell all of men
Persephone hungered for power
Helen made war for her love
Cleopatra reigned immortal

They wept for Icarus
But shed not a tear for Medea
So she burned them to the ground, and god,
How she burned

History reviles us
And why shouldn’t it
It was never ours

We, the scapegoats blamed for the cruelties of unfit
Gods and pathetic men

We inherited the ocean and all her rage
We will rise from the ashes of the fires you set
We will crumble your kingdoms and build our own
We will rule with iron fists and open hands,
Wearing pearls and battle scars

We, the girls who sleep with knives under our pillows
We, with diamonds on our knuckles and blood in our mouths
We molded the past
We are the future
—  the boy always said my teeth were too sharp for my pretty little mouth
so i ripped him apart and kissed him goodnight
// s.b. (via inkedknuckles)

There were odd stories about him; as that when children died Peter Pan went part of the way with them, so that they should not be frightened.

The muses look different with every decade, but on the inside, they stay the same. They are the girls whose eyes are like stars with artists in their orbit; whose beauty is eternally captivating, but impossible to capture completely, and so they are drawn and photographed and written about into eternity. They are unknown girls wearing pearl earrings and depressed souls who commit suicide between walls of tin foil and silver paint. They know that their lives begin and end with art, that they are created for and by inspiration. They are gasoline bodies waiting for the right artist to set them ablaze.

AESTHETIC PUNK MYTHS 1/4 Creatures/monsters