the old gods rest tempestuous and fitful, and their sleep is marred by nightmares like bullets, piercing and ricocheting through their minds. bloody, weeping wounds and slaughter too vivid to forget. yawning caverns of chests cracked open, and bruises blooming like chrysanthemums across porcelain skin. and a young thief- slipping through their hands like wisps of smoke.

you are my sun #11 052418 #7 070618 #1 071018 © 123017, enamoramos

win a fist fight with the sky and she'll tell you all her secrets

stitching storms into lovers' thighs (poetry #1 / prose #1 - 061120) © VANGOHS, 2017

i'll love u when ur gone ©2017, ina

YOUNG GODS, driven to insanity. © sensationale [7.29.17]PO54

i am jealous of anyone who has ever touched you

it will make sense in the morning.

come a little closer, i wanna tell u how i feel.

you are the sun and i am proxima centauri: a low-mass star, too faint to be seen, yet closest to you