Aria

I FORGOT THIS APP EXISTED 
          
          @Quiblisaana @suuzysheeepy R U STILL ACTIVE ON HERE??

Good mORNING

you know you're really gone when you almost thank a person for looking at u 
          
          i swear i almost did that today

hbd hyunjinnnn <333

a small token of kindness (18th March 2022) 
          
          a rose from thorn-like death, a stone of heart and a comb of hell, a marker of prejudice, a hall of fright, 
          destiny clad in archer's arrow, a moment of pride, kith and kin, lies, lotuses and legacies, foreign homes and ginger tragedies. 
          
          fragile skins and paper cuts, laws martyred, twilight sun; clinking pedants, olive guilts; dusty hands and blackberry fingertips. autumn of march, buried hopes; leaves lost to skin, a ground of boiling blood. pear yearnings, spring of fall; cavalier sun and half moon echoes. 
          
          marionberry garnet and ruby hearts; fire-like worship, drowning soils. mulberry blood, violent rugs; gardens of night, orchids of flesh. congested wounds, salted shores; lakes of tourmaline, valleys of balsam. bread and sanctuaries abandoned,  cinnamon paper and ochre canvases. 
          
          deer-like details, fogged empathy; rosary of the waves, prayers of the cliff of throat. bruised knuckles, clay air; riverbed séances, grief burns. crescent universe, a child's veil; rosy vessel, magnolia dirt. whether soaked in water or blood, a heart behind the ribs is still a prisoner in a prison. 
           #adropofhumanity 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @suuzysheeepy !!!!

Aria I’m bored 

Aria wake up

Aria

a small token of kindness (16th January 2022) 
          
          oceans of tiny petals, mirrors of perfumed errors;  honey calligraphies, glazed memoirs. eyes of springs, tears of atlantic stillness. loans of labyrinths, seas of satin silk; light a buried chest, home a warrior fled. masks of acanthus, aloe smiles; traps of begonia, clematis captured. 
          
          locks of dainty crocus, the daisy feet of mothers;  tears of willow, pomegranate feathers. ever has it been the mother knows not the depth of her tenderness until the thunder storms strike. much of her and her nature is crumpled under malicious feet; scrupled steps and holly hands. 
          
          battlefields and loneliness, camaraderie homes and ginger breads; half of wings, glass of fire, blades of seas and diamond clawed waves. sun of the end, candle flamed dances; fostered crimson, postcard lashes. a mess of the earth crumpled at the feet of time, fleeting with lies, with promises of fading sea stamps. 
          
          crumpled proverbs, papyrus tortures; grainy winds and pyramid oceans. love is an ancient illusion, one of the lines of palms; existence hidden, the rain and the wind callouse it. a choke on roses, shade of the dark vases; cellar of echoes for the upholders of love, sun of the violent rugs. love comes not from tender places, and is not for the gentle peaches. it comes from blue suns and twilight centuries, from you, the very person you hate. 
           #adropofhumanity