•°┊❛ f a e r i e ❜┊˚•

BABE IMY

Hru bb

Bb

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A star has 5 ends . A square has 4 ends . A triangle has 3 ends . A line has 2 ends . But a circle of our friendship has no ends . Send this to all your friends . If you get 5 back , you're a good friend . If you get 10 you are popular . If you get 15 , DAMN I'M JEALOUS !!!

< since 2021 is ending , send this to everyone who made your year special 3

✨♥post✨♥this✨♥on✨♥the✨♥ten✨♥most✨♥nicest✨♥peoples✨♥profile✨♥

a small token of kindness (14th December 2021) 
          
          sealed hurricanes and harmonised years, cocoa pricks and battled fears; marmalade rays and a shy ball of fire, flickering hopes and nestled desires. in the roar of stretching beats and the silence of two shoulders, the sun hovers gently in the thunders, in the hours of the one left behind. 
          
          olive stars, mediterranean lamps; golden moon, tears unshed. perfumed death, barricaded twilight;  arrowed corals, ironical laughs. the deadly hour, sings little to light, ferocious with pallour, mighty with a mouth sewn. time hums a pattern, an embroidered tune, one for the passing day and another for the arriving death. 
          
          in the bed of bedlam, overpowered by stories of brown and blue, arms of dandelions, skeleton of oak, there rises against the land a squeak of solace, of wilting petunias and sighing birds. love is but an eye; a door to the city of Atlantis, in search of its rightful owner, that which resides right by its soft collar. 
          
          love a disease, cure a breeze; droplets of ice water, warmth like spring. it is scattered, like the rainbow's seven and collected like the moonlight. it is the hush of the horizon set aflame and the masses on earth enjoying the play. to love is to lose, to love is to live less with yourself. to love is to hold the moon close and the soul to the oceans. love, but in moderation, like the earth loves the seas and the forests. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (9th December 2021) 
          
          the sun adorns itself with the stomach of the storm, wild with pink carnation embraces and fire of the splintered heart walls. pistachio love and fluttering skies;  light a fuel, and a vanishing identity. the devil free to roam, believer a misguidance like a nightingale's sweet talk. 
          
          thunderstorms a song, the salt drops lyrics of its ventricular fins and churning sorrows. hills of skeletons, graves of souls; worship of demons and prayers of turbulent stomachs. ink of independence churned into sand and syllables; seas and oceans feasted upon like candied cartilages. 
          
          dusk fashioned claws, moon graced rages; the night a dark amaranthus, eyes curtained with sunsets. sugared wounds, salted licks; bothered ruins, hundred layered crescents. existence drowned into rose water, grief and waves floating across the womb of the horizon. 
          
          in depths, there are beginnings; under the shadows, in the dark smudges of thirst. contradictory roses, wordless blood, the paintings of the things crushed, the heart lost in a claustrophobic mist . in frozen tears and anarchic quests, awakening tornadoes and pitiful plays; there are rumours of lost minds in the places of death; place of birth, place of raw flesh. 
          
          not easy it is to hand over parts that you are blind to, like foreign reds and shivering smiles, a tongue of passion and eyes of morning nights. to give away bricks of home is only a thing of hearts supported by good insides, like the kind sky that tears itself apart to share its home with the world around, like the chaotic dark that resorts to calmness after the moon pecks its way through. 
           #adropofhumanity 

Hii luv