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amo relacionamentos saudáveis

A jarra continuou intacta no mesmo lugar. Era até engraçado – ela não era conhecida por ter esse tipo de cuidado, e claramente não havia tido em nenhuma outra área da casa. A mensagem era gritante, cáustica, quase audível na voz debochada que usava durante as brigas: cada caco partido nesse chão está aí porque eu o quis. Ela não deixou pontas soltas! Você, claro, já o eterno portador da terrível notícia, não se deu ao trabalho de questionar nada. Entrou no quarto, pacientemente limpou cada canto, móvel e quina empoeirada e demolida; colocou tudo numa caixa de papelão (em que tinham vindo as xícaras do primeiro jogo de chá que ela havia quebrado, se você lembrava corretamente), lacrou-a com fita adesiva e deixou ao lado da lata de lixo do prédio. Ainda com um gosto amargo na boca, meticulosamente cavucou por trás de tudo que poderia ser movido, encontrando cada mínima evidência do DNA estranho, entre cabelos, unhas, cílios, prendedores de cabelo, uma escova de dentes e camisinhas

bookends

um dia eu acordei e o mundo tinha acabado. (não que eu tivesse percebido; ninguém nunca percebe até se deitar à noite e a ficha cair de que morreu na noite anterior.) me levanto da cama e olho ao meu redor para ver uma casa em ruínas. paredes dilapidadas, escombros e destroços por todos os lados, e algumas coisas ainda em chamas. o ar tem gosto de cinzas. me pergunto pra onde tudo que eu lembrava teria ido, mas não me incomodo em procurar por nada (algo me dizia que no dia seguinte tudo estaria em um lugar novo). abro os guarda-roupas e busco algo para me vestir, mas nenhuma das roupas me serve mais. olhar para elas me faz sentir como um lagarto que trocou de pele—aquela já não sou eu. me olho nos cacos de um espelho e não consigo reconhecer meu rosto. eu era assim mesmo? rugas parecem encaixar nos meus olhos, mas não estou velha, e sei que aquele reflexo sou eu, mas não se parece comigo. eu ensaio um sorriso e algo é familiar, como se eu já tivesse feito isso antes. se fiz,

rain me might be my favorite me

(this post was going to be called "winter me might be my favorite me", but today proved that the rain does not care about seasons.) rain me is kind. or at least kinder than i am when the sun is out - which isn't very hard if i'm being honest. rain me is quieter, too - and that is something i've always wanted to be. every time i open my mouth i feel like my voice is too bright. rain me is small - she lets the world sweep over her and the sound of the rain envelop her and all she needs is a tight place to be happy - or at least okay. i love that about her - i hate it when i don't fit (either literally or metaphorically). rain me gets shit done, funnily enough. give her something sweet to eat and something warm to wear, and she will listen to the rain and solve all the problems of the world. at least the ones in her head. at least the ones that give her anxiety at night. rain me is the me i wish i was all the time. she speaks softly and she walks softly and
it breaks my heart that I don't know how to save you. you were the person that taught me love was not an obligation, it was something you chose, and when you choose it right, it feels amazing. it breaks my heart to see you cry and not be able to wipe your tears. you were the one who first saw mine and told me I'd be okay. it breaks my heart to see you so terrified and not know how to fight your monsters. I love you. but I don't know how to help you, and that kills me.

how to make a wish

1. be sure of what you want. the old forces do not have the patience to deal with regrets. 2. be aware and beware of the consequences. magic is not inconsequential, and what you receive you must give back. 3. a wish is a promise, and a promise to the ancients is a promise you keep. 4. no takebacks. you asked for it. you will have it until your end- and sometimes, that time is longer than the time you live. 5. the world can be cruel- but if you have the right amount of tears on your eyes and just enough blood on your tongue, you wish will be granted kindly. 6. the world can be kind- but if you get a soft beginning, your ending will most likely hurt. 7. should you wish for life, know it must be paid with life later. 8. never forget that balance is all that exists, and if you decide to wish against it, the universe shall swallow you whole. 9. wishing is dreaming. close your eyes and dream.

Loving isn't always tragic

i- "I don't love her!", you scream fiercely Hanging from the veins around your heart. Child, you are not fooling anyone You and I know that goddesses are what drives you insane Silent prayers and getting high on silent answers (which are no answer at all, mind you) and unrequited devotion. You want her desperately. You want her hopelessly. ii- But you are used to being ignored by those you put on pedestals. To this goddess, you barely pray. But whenever you do... ...she answers. Gods,  does she answer. You refuse to believe. You refuse to see you finally have a deity at your feet. She is there, though. Somehow, she never leaves. iii- You've found out what it means to be in love. And you're terrified to see the end of it, so you take it all. And you sink and sink and sink and drown And - good gods - you find out how it feels to have a goddess between your hips. And you find out the taste of a goddess' lips. It is more addictive than the la
I walk out and the sky is clear for the first time in years. It feels slightly wrong, but I allow myself to enjoy the sun. I can finally see colors, and they are almost overwhelming for my once blind eyes. I'm in love with them. I hear whispers and singing voices and a soft hum coming with the wind. I welcome the wind. It's like the world is telling me everything that I missed when I was trapped in my cave. "This is a flower", it says. "It blooms every spring, and it is beautiful." I look at the flower. It is gorgeous, and I wish I could comprehend why. "It is beautiful now. But it will wither, and the petals will fall.", I mumble. I remember looking at myself in the bathroom mirror and seeing my eyes wither. "Yes, it will", the clouds hum. "But it will grow again next spring. It will not be the same, of course. They are never the same. But you will love it nonetheless." I desperately hope so. The world tells me about