Shin-Shin

しんしん | 涔涔 [shin-shin] - the sound of snow falling silently in Japanese.

Delicate lace of winter, Boundless, pearly sky. Melting from love Like snowflakes in warm breath, We laugh, and dream, and shine. ***

My Secret Santa gift for Mabledonut in the shape of a tiny doujinshi (comic) based on her prompts! Masterlist of my Naruto doujins/comics

i beg you to love me, say that i'm enough, but you tell me— why are you like this? i think there's something wrong with you.

for @shestrying

thanks to @acelania for finding the unknowns!

in image / desperation sits heavy on my tongue, tumblr user tullipsink / mary oliver, ‘north country’ / virginia woolf, letter to violet dickinson / in image / blythe baird, from if my body could speak / Alice in Bed: A Play' by Susan Sontag (link in comment) / lynee rae perkins, criss cross / elena ferrante, Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay' (trans. Ann Goldstein) / rainer maria rilke, from rilke’s book of hours / in image/ in image

@floweroflaurelin \\ june jordan directed by desire: the complete poems of june jordan: "intifada incantation: poem #8 for b.b.l" \\ @destielgaysex

kofi

Him and I.

the love i give, the subject is you, the love i earn is always new.

for you are a story i never failed to read, a page in poetry that i never left empty.

oh it was you holding my creed, and my heart too indeed.

if you must love, you must know,

if you must live, you must learn,

that i loved you still in present, and lived life like a crescent.

stirring behind shadows of feeling free,

from the intensity of what ur gaze seeked in me.

Will it, i hope to God. Will it, i kneel to God. if it isn't you, my fate, written for me,

then what is it, that my soul, is meant to be?

you stir me with love, you stir in me my self,

i return to you, with love, feeling above all else.

i promise you and im breaking you,

you promise to me and you're breaking me, too.

two beautiful broken glasses, fitting perfectly against each other,

stained with rather pains, but we still do not wither.

yearning to be in ur arms, forced to be in my thoughts,

born to comfort me, you say, yet we'd rather not say

what truly lies in our hearts,

for if it doesn't come true,

it'll break me and you.

you’re my every thought

all I want is to hear ur breath as I fall asleep

feel ur warmth

next to me.

Her entire being joins with you for a moment, and you see all that she is. Dangerous, cunning, wounded, brutal, paranoid... and utterly loyal to those she trusts. And you have earned that trust, along with a small measure of her affection. It is a rare thing, well-hidden in the cold fortress of her mind, and it is precious.

a bit of advice:

order dessert before dinner whenever you can. get the really rich option, the oreo cheesecake or chocolate mouse. lick warm, melty whipped cream off the backside of your spoon, scoop the chocolate clean off the plate, sit back and sigh and lament that you might have not saved enough room for dinner, without an ounce of regret, and then go on to finish the bread and oil and your entire bowl of pasta too. look utterly confused anytime anyone brings up their new diet, or how they need to work out before dinner, or that they are just soooo bloated, or how they just need to lose that last 5 pounds. act as if it is the most absurd thing you have heard that someone would even consider cutting calories or passing on warm cookies fresh out of the oven or ignoring the pleasure of eating a whole bag of pink starbursts in one sitting. picture yourself at age three, often. think about a time before dance classes or diet culture or tiny runway models or tumblr of 2012 got it’s hands on you. remember the way your belly rolls looked extra cute in your purple butterfly swimsuit with watermelon juice covering your sticky salt water fingers, braids wildly unkempt from summertime play (and then remember that nothing has changed with age except that now you have a blue butterfly swimsuit instead of purple). and when you can’t show up for yourself to feed this adult body that has to face the world, feed yourself at three years old, giggly and chubby, sweet talking in hopes for a second popsicle. let them know that they can have three popsicles if they want, and that tonight, we will even order our dessert before dinner.

Will I get better? Will I do better?

Jody Chan, Sick // @fadedkawasaki // @anervousmirrorball (I Wanna Get Better by Bleachers) // Better In the Morning by Birdtalker //@obeliskandmetronome // Franz Wright, Night Walk // Keaton St. James, September Affirmation // @mountainqoats // Up the Wolves by The Mountain Goats // Alexis Sears, September

@seravph​, I Think I Am Going To Cut My Hair

Interview with the Vampire (1994) dir. Neil Jordan, script by Anne Rice

Gone Girl (2014) dir. David Fincher

Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005-2008), 3x16: Sozin’s Comet

Jacqueline Wilson, Vicky Angel

Gülten Akın, ‘I Cut My Black Hair’ from What Have You Carried Over?

Laurence Price, The Famous Flower of Serving-Men (traditional English language ballad, c. 1656)

Regina Spektor, Samson

Little Women (2019) dir. Greta Gerwig

@seravph​, I Think I Am Going To Cut My Hair

defined by our togetherness, we could make up a Venn diagram in the shower steam, onomatopoeic joining with a slurp or vacuum seal sound as our tummies fuse and we breathe through the same mouth one out + one in to joint lungs. maybe then we'd have to stop smoking and let those gaps of our lip corners veil in vining plants. we do everything anyway. roll around in the afternoon like everyone should have the chance to, then fall asleep sweating. even September knows that lovers should sweat.

iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou tongues, necks, armpits, taste of the jelly bean deodorant, leg muscle, head pushing, spitting when we are called to. but also when we wander our bod(y)(ies) through the grocery store, tamed and showered, our domestic deciding between apple varieties is some cosmic thing, cleaning out the fridge expansive, reality tv shared between our welded eyeballs a gift of the universe aligning right, us overlapping, even on this little couch.

More end poem mugs :]

Magnolias