This Beauty And Blood Defies God

Reblog this if you're the eldest daughter who had to mature at a really young age, were always seen as the 'quiet and unproblematic' one, were the overachiever of the family, were the so-called 'perfect child', so now you're literally terrified of doing anything wrong because you don't want to ruin your reputation and whenever you try to tell anyone about your fears or insecurities they just brush it off like "lol why would you think that you're worrying for no reason"

A concept.

Brother

TW: CSA

Tell me how does darkness feeds on an unsullied soul;

Am I the one to be blamed for your viciousness?

Or was it the gratuity of my parents' sins?

Or was it the ode of innocence that tempted you?

An ode you consumed.

You shredded me to ribbons so that you could use them

to tie the knots of your selfish yearnings;

Morphed me into an infernal machine in the pursuit

of your eternal fantasy.

Unbloomed; I was cradled in the soft bed of childhood

Yet, you stripped me away from that delectation;

And impelled me into the wretched abyss of unholiness.

Suffocated I was, as you took advantage of a frail heart,

and ruptured it from its hollow.

Yet I am the one they blame, I blame.

For being tainted, ruined.

Abhorrence filled in their gazes.

But, if to taint me is to ruin me, then let the gods be blamed for bestowing such wickedness on my existence,

For I was nothing but a child,

Slaughtered because of vulnerability and pestering naivety.

Tell me why does darkness feed on an unsullied soul, brother?

When Beatrice said “I would eat his heart in the marketplace." ” I felt that

Source

“creature”, half•alive // Fliegeroffizier, Karl Alexander Wilke // Vicious, V. E. Schwab

Same.

- June 7, 1912

- The diaries of of Franz Kafka, 1910-1913

[ID: "June 7. Bad. Wrote nothing today. Tomorrow no time." End ID]

  ― Pablo Neruda, One Hundred Love Sonnets

[text ID: I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, / in secret, between the shadow and the soul.]

Hélène Cixous, from Hélène Cixous, Rootprints

Text ID: Fever, which is unbearable, is a defensive phenomenon. It is a combat. It is the same for suffering: in suffering there is a whole manœuvre of the unconscious, of the soul, of the body, that makes us come to bear the unbearable.