Tag: words

i am a storm.
i am night, i am darkness, i am fear and i am fearless.
i am a predator.
i speak to no one, i answer to nothing, i rip out flesh with my teeth and paint my lips red with blood.
i am unholy.
i laugh in the face of death, i thrive in destruction, i tear down the world bit by bit.
i am iron.
i will not bend, i cannot break, i am a threat to the titans and the gods.
i am ruthless.
i hold a leather leash in my hand, i have all goodness attached to the other end, i yank it as hard as i can and watch hope fade away.
i am a flame.
i live to burn, i cannot be touched, i get stronger in the face of danger.

i am a queen
and i rule all that is broken.

the mantra of chaos // [t.r.]

girl,
with an accent of blood
who speaks in foreign tongues
whose vowels are the sound of metal clashing.

warrior,
with fire in her veins
and armor beneath her skin
who crushes the earth beneath her feet.

immortal,
hair streaked with daggers
and iron filling her lungs
each breath invitingly toxic.

princess,
with lips made of glass
and a voice cut from steel
features born from thunder and battle.

heroine,
a grin made for war
and eyes flecked with ash
striding, powerful, into the arms of death.

perhaps she will be the one you follow into battle || [t.r.] (via vodlemort)

romanifeuilly:

I realized why the idea of constellations has always swayed me. constellations are so very human.

our wonder of the stars is bone-sunk; we’ve been thinking and dreaming and watching and watching and watching since the beginning of time, and we looked for so long that we started making connections. 

we played a celestial game of connect-the-dots; trying to find order in something so vast and trying to show that the stars are in everything and everything is in the stars.

we plucked pictures out of the infinite; there’s a dog, there’s a bear, there’s a lion, see? look, right there; the stars hold and mirror back everything we see. 

but then it went a step further. instead of everyday things, we stopped picking out the cups and the bears, and instead we saw stories. 

look, Andromeda, chained to a rock and waiting to be devoured by Cetus. there’s Orion, and Hercules, and do you see Orpheus’ lyre? Zeus sent an eagle to retrieve it after Orpheus’ death and he placed it in the sky. 

we did the most human thing imaginable: we wrote our stories into the stars. we filled the night sky; previously so vast, so unknowable; with our history. we forged connections to the stars and made it so our children will always know where they come from. 

I have noticed that when all the lights are on, people tend to talk about what they are doing – their outer lives. Sitting round in candlelight or firelight, people start to talk about how they are feeling – their inner lives. They speak subjectively, they argue less, there are longer pauses. To sit alone without any electric light is curiously creative. I have my best ideas at dawn or at nightfall, but not if I switch on the lights – then I start thinking about projects, deadlines, demands, and the shadows and shapes of the house become objects, not suggestions, things that need to done, not a background to thought.

Jeanette Winterson, “Why I Adore the Night”  (via wordsnquotes)