Love speaks to you as you breathe for life. In the dining hall. In the train station. In all moments where reality seems altered. And love will still speak to you even when its soul walks away. Even when language dies. These are entries and excerpts of mine sealed inside bottles you'll never see, locked up in my 18-year-old library of thoughts. A Collection: Volume I HOW WOULD YOU SPEAK OF LOVE WHEN LANGUAGE DIES? August 2023

of grassy meadows and sunlit dreams // poetry of the honey sweet love

In the middle of the night, Cora Flair heard a knock on her window. Who could it be? Much to her surprise it was Nova Turner, the bassist of her favorite band. Before Cora could let her in, Nova's hand slipped, leading her to accidentally fall to her death. What should she do? Because in the middle of the night, Cora Flair heard a knock on her window. Who could it be? Much to her surprise it was Nova Turner, the bassist of her favorite band. Before Cora could let her in, Nova's hand slipped, leading her to accidentally fall to her death. A scream was heard in the middle of the night, and Cora Flair heard a knock on her window. Who could it be? Much to her surprise it was Nova Turner, the bassist of her favorite band. Before Cora could let her in, Nova's hand slipped, leading her to accidentally fall to her death. Bones were broken in the middle of the night, and Cora Flair heard a knock on her window. Who could it be? Much to her surprise it was Nova Turner, the bassist of her favorite band. Before Cora could let her in, Nova's hand slipped, leading her to accidentally fall to her death. What the fuck is happening? In the middle of the night, Cora Flair heard a knock on her window. Who could it be?

A collection of tragedies of sorts, of demons or angels (whatever you'd fancy to call them) that lurk and/or gleam in my mind. Written when the moon's dreary and the sun's near awakening. Obnoxiously metaphoric, subtly inspirational. © Jake Sullivan, 2014

And in his heart, he became a perishable painting; in which Ray Singh falls in love with the dead Viktor Ivanovich. #taygetsthegay #181 Copyright © 2016, humanoligy

After losing her friend because of an on-the-run murderer, Clover went to a house party to try to find the person responsible for her death. However, instead of doing so, she found herself spending hours in a bathroom with a girl named Astrid, only for things to get worse from there.

mon amour ne vaut rien pour toi.

The death, the life, and the recounting of Juliet.

❝fill the crevices with water.❞