Heart Flowers by madam--guillotine, literature
I spend my time planting seeds inside my heart, hoping they grow till they break me apart. They are flower seeds delicate as only one can be They breathe my air as I consume, they consume me. They dance among my bones leaving me panting and sweaty I learn to live among the petals a thing that one can have, of, any They sing, chanting and tuneless till they break me apart and I burst forth, fully formed but with a broken heart
among paintings of a burning house by raido-ehwaz, literature
among paintings of a burning house
we first kissed in the chapel of a bookshop where we'd never met, only dreamed. sometimes things you aren't sure you've actually seen show up on old films you develop a year after you sober up. sometimes we dream of connections and the strange relief of losing everything— then awaken to search for the same. sometimes i can't put my finger on it, still i know it's there: a tiny spark that might dissolve like a dream, or become brushstrokes on an unfinished canvas. we first met in another bookshop. i don't remember the words we said then, only what i dreamed.