Kaveh Akbar, from “Personal Inventory: Fearless (Temporis Fila)”, Calling A Wolf A Wolf 

I'm old? But I've been young for so many years how can you just take that away from me?

"Will you just tell me what your fucking problem is? You're acting crazy, you know that, but you think you can still pretend everything is fine? Spit it out!"

"I'm— I'm being haunted."

I've said the forbidden thing. And I'm waiting for the ceiling to fall on top of us or for the ground to swallow me whole, but all i see and feel is the horror on their faces. Why isn't Celia, the Celia whom I murdered not doing a single thing? It is only when i lift my head to see their horrified faces once again that I understand.

I understand to such a degree that I break into maniacal laughter as the world spins around me. Both me and the woman haunting me— we share a common goal now.

I want to We want to torture the people who made me murder her. "Maybe Celia's not haunting me. Maybe I'm posessed by her. For I've never understood a person this much before!"

"You watch your mouth, new prince. Before I—"

"Before you strip me off the 'chosen hero' title? Well to hell with your fucking special play, your uniqueness. Curse you and that royal blood— After all, what kind of chosen hero, What kind of God' s favourite hold's a knife to a young woman's innocent throat? All in the name of 'erasing cursed heritage?' In the name of the cause, you ruined me! You all have forgotten yourselves! Even declared yourself king, at the expense of making me a murderer. At the expense of the love of my life— no, the life of my love!" Celia uses her powers now. No, her presence is stronger. She uses it to shut me up, ofcourse. Frightening, how love is enough to shake the souls of the dead, aswell.

After all, I only confessed my love for her once she was incapable of loving me back.

"Lock him up. Cut him until he swears by the blood."

I pray she will use her powers to intervene, and save me from the torture. I hear no objection as I'm dragged away. What a creative manner to reject me, my celia. I will admire you from hell

"Will you just tell me what your fucking problem is? You're acting crazy, you know that, but you think you can still pretend everything is fine? Spit it out!"

"I'm— I'm being haunted."

what if i put a gentle yet firm hand on your chin to hold you still while i put lipstick on your lips. and you were kneeling and i was standing and looking down at you and making eye contact. what then

My lovers in a band

He plays guitar while I hold his hand

Oh the sound of the screeching tunes

They scratch and bruise

He never lets go

Beauty's pain and

I'm his muse

My dear, I will read your book.

Best believe I will not criticise the flow of words for I know they are born out of the heart. I will read despite the timeskips and flawed main couples, I will memorize your difficult pages despite their jaggedy flow.

But my dear, first you must bring me the book.

Write, my darling. The hypothetical reader in your mind is as inaccurate as one can be— for the reader that I am, all I need is words.

But you must write first, my darling. Do it for me

I'm your reader

This so mean why my trauma isn't cool af ugh

Tumblr has so much potential 😬 it's kind of sad

“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you

You fill me with so much being that I no longer feel woman nor man around you, the presence realization of you puts me in a trance-like state, away from the concept of reality, logic and nature— rather I am forever a cloud hanging around you, only ever activated when ever I am, once again, struck by the realization of you.

50 posts!

Yet none of you bitches interact you hoes