Dark Academism - Blog Posts
Kiss me, beneath the milky twilight Lead me out on the moonlit floor Lift your open hand Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance Silver moon's sparkling So kiss me
"...love is a skill, not just an enthusiasm."
The Course of Love | Alain de Botton
GUILTY AS SIN. WHY IS THAT SONG SO BEAUTIFUL?!?!?!
I should like to lie at your feet and die in your arms.
Voltaire
"This will last until the day roses on my grave stop sharing roots with the roses on yours. I will have you even in death, little witch. I am your beast. I am your madness. And you, you’re my afterlife."
Gothikana | RuNyx
November is the best and the sexiest month.....you can't tell me otherwise
"As flies to wanton boys are we to th' gods;
They kill us for their sport."
-King Lear, Shakespeare.
Tuesday Mornings...
Not a very well structured poem but I was really in the mindset to write a poem this morning. I found my “old” journal with a couple characters I made while making coffee.
Sleeping is almost non optional in the mornings Alarms fade into quiet storms Quieter than the thoughts and plans For the day ahead
Gentle hisses from a small dragon The start of a morning filled with change. The coffee begins to brew as I begin to dress.
Words being exchanged between two lovers Arrangements being made And some being cancelled. She too, begins to dress for the day ahead
A cup of coffee being shared between two A cup of wine to occupancy it. They flip through the pages of their past and reminisce on the future.
The Immortal Beloved
From @creativepromptsforwriting Drabble List
“Let’s kiss and see where it takes us.”
"Pardon?"
A pair of ivory-coloured eyes flutter shut before opening once more.
"I'm positive you heard me."
"I infact did, but I'm not comprehending."
Her fingers find the collar of my shirt, pulling me down to her level only slightly. "Comprehend this."
Our lips make the most exquisite connection...Coming together in the most beautiful of ways. Breaths are exchanged between two lips. Minds unite to form one. This is what Sappho used to write about in her poems. When the two come into contact, fireworks erupt. For the first time, for the second and the third.
My Immortal Beloved.
White Wax
From @creativepromptsforwriting Drabble List
“This didn’t work out as I had intended.” They hum as they examine the smeared wax seal. The stark white against the beige envelope. Noir removes the wax seal and flick it elsewhere not wanting to look back on it. When they return their gaze to the envelope, the remnants of the white wax are still visible. They groan as they remove the letter from the envelope and toss it to the side. "This...I will handle later." They look to the other side of the room. "Now to deal with you." Noir mutters, gazing upon the bloodied corpse of their husband.