I say, “In the contract we said we wouldn’t break each other’s hearts. What if we do it again?” Fiercely he says, “What if we do? If we’re so guarded, it’s not going to be anything. Let’s do it fucking for real, Lara Jean. Let’s go all in. No more contract. No more safety net. You can break my heart. Do whatever you want with it.”

let’s make gods out of these hollow corpses.
i’m tired of the weight of mortality, i want
to tear it from my veins til i bleed silver and gold,
til i can feel something again. let’s carve our names
in a heart on the ivory pillars of history. maybe
one day they’ll chant our names. maybe one day
they’ll paint us into the constellations and name
galaxies after us, and we too shall be eternal.
—  divinity | a.c. for @lxcuna | want one?
with words, i build myself a different ending: there are still fireflies in my eyes, i smile when i talk to you, i don’t keep a jar full of regrets tucked beneath my bed. i wish for forever on dandelions and shooting stars. i’ve broken an arm but not my heart. i sit up straight and arch my back forward, i speak with kingdoms on my tongue and i’m not afraid of myself. my life is carefully mapped out with a ballpoint pen; i know who i am and who i’m going to be. i’ve just started flying, one hand stretched toward the sun, and i don’t yet know what it means to fall.
—  a.c. | check out my chapbook unmythologize!
His hands are so fucking warm. I never knew such warmness could exist. And it lingers. And what do you do after that? What do you do, what do you do–
—  You don’t think about it. Don’t you dare think about it. // m.f