"August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time."
Sylvia Plath
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There is a part of us, in every single one of us, where we have been exiled or cut off or disowned, and it does speak to where that can lead you. Sometimes you do have a choice, and sometimes you get driven to things, and I think it’s really important to show people — in terms of valuing themselves and each other — what the fallout could be.

"have you considered that maybe i am not pleasant?

maybe i wear lipstick so that
you will see my pretty pink mouth
wrapping around a coffee cup lid
and be distracted enough not to notice
that i am intelligent and powerful;
a threat.

maybe i draw my brows into high arches
so you will look at my unimpressed skepticism
and overlook my spiteful glare
as a trick of my silly, girlish routine.

maybe i wear my heels so high and thin
so that i grasp your attention with the sway of my hips
as i listen to the click-clack-click against the floor
and know that if you should try to overpower me
i walk on sharpened knives.

maybe when i laugh at your worthless jokes
i am really baring my fangs
waiting patiently for the day
that i sink them into your neck.

i am not made of porcelain pleasantries;
you will find that these things are my armor
to keep you at a distance
so you do not step on me and shatter
my fragile control.

i am not a husk — i am not wilting.
i am turning my head
so that the fire blazing through my eyes
does not catch on the accelerant of your sweaty palms
and burn your bones to dust.

i am not your pretty girl;
i am a fury, a faerie, a phoenix —
a forest of werewolves and wendigos
that will carve out your chest
so that the next time i paint my pretty pink lips
i will taste the copper tang of your dying breaths."
R.K., I Am The Wolf Only Barely Contained (via hollandrodain)
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via  src  RBG
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Marry me. Let’s spend our nights eating cereal on the floor when there is a perfectly fine table behind us.

Marry me. We can go to the movie theatre and sit in the very back row just to make out like kids falling in love for the first time.

Marry me. We’ll paint the rooms of our house and get more paint on us than on the walls.

Marry me. We can hold hands and go to parties that we end up ditching to drink wine out of the bottle in the bathtub together.

Marry me. Slow dance with me in our bedroom with an unmade bed and candles on the nightstand.

"
let me love you forever, marry me

- You all plan to die here tonight?
- No, Ser!

"Ancient moon priestesses were called virgins. ‘Virgin’ meant not married, not belonging to a man - a woman who was ‘one-in-herself’. The very word derives from a Latin root meaning strength, force, skill; and was later applied to men: virle. Ishtar, Diana, Astarte, Isis were all all called virgin, which did not refer to sexual chastity, but sexual independence. And all great culture heroes of the past, mythic or historic, were said to be born of virgin mothers: Marduk, Gilgamesh, Buddha, Osiris, Dionysus, Genghis Khan, Jesus - they were all affirmed as sons of the Great Mother, of the Original One, their worldly power deriving from her. When the Hebrews used the word, and in the original Aramaic, it meant ‘maiden’ or ‘young woman’, with no connotations to sexual chastity. But later Christian translators could not conceive of the ‘Virgin Mary’ as a woman of independent sexuality, needless to say; they distorted the meaning into sexually pure, chaste, never touched."
Monica Sjoo, The Great Cosmic Mother: Rediscovering the Religion of the Earth
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Behind the Scenes with Jenna Coleman for Glamour’s Women of the Year

puppy  puppies  d.