#bts and poems

[ivynightshade]

fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s ‘i am an observer, but not by choice.’

[text id: my fist has always been clenched around the handle of an invisible suitcase. / i am always ready to leave. / there is not a single room in this world where i belong.]

[asoftepiloguemylove]

THE WORST PART OF LOVE / IS THAT I REMEMBER IT

Lana Del Rey Summertime Sadness // 后来的我们 Us and Them (2018) dir. Rene Liu // Taylor Swift I Almost Do // BTS - Spring Day // Richard Siken "Crush," Planet of Love // 后来的我们 Us and Them (2018) dir. Rene Liu // Silas Denver Melvin On the Romance of Cannibalism // 后来的我们 Us and Them (2018) dir. Rene Liu // Ocean Vuong On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous // Noah Kahan Stick Season // Joey Comeau // 后来的我们 Us and Them (2018) dir. Rene Liu // Clementine von Radics In a Dream You Saw a Way to Survive // June Gehringer I get so jealous of euthanized dogs

[fatimaamerbilal]

fatima aamer bilal, from days where my whole world is my bed.

[text id: september arrives like a twisted knife, and i always welcome it with open arms.]

[aamerchive]

fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s my body is a slaughterhouse.

[image credit: pinterest]

[friesitas]

✶ 𝖱𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝚞𝗍 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬

୧ ‧₊˚ 🫀 ⋅ ☆

[fuckito]

꒰ 🚬 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

𝖡𝗎𝗍 ⠀𝗒𝗈𝗎 ⠀𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 ⠀𝘁𝗼 ⠀𝗺𝗲⠀, ⠀𝗈𝗈𝗁⠀, ⠀𝗒𝗈𝗎 ⠀𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 ⠀𝘁𝗼 ⠀𝗺𝗲

[confessoo]

𝒥á sabíamos o final do nosso ℛomance.

[rosarysgarden]

fatima aamer bilal, from moony moonless sky’s ‘i am your mould, but the shape of you is true absence, leaving me purposeless.’

[text id: your clavicle is touching mine and / i am holy because of it.]

[ivynightshade]

fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s ‘i am tired of making a religion out of my suffering’.

[text id: i am too little, and too much, and never enough.]

[fatimaamerbilal]

fatima aamer bilal, from shame is a girl’s second skin.

[text id: i wanted to hurl my girlhood on a sidewalk and never walk that road again. / my insides have been eating me up alive lately. / i put my fist in my throat and yank misery out of me. / it looks like me. / you think your touch would burn the sun. / but you want to be held, / you’ll let a hand around your throat for the sake of it. / in grade one, i was six, i would pick the skin off my thumbs until they were bloody, so my teacher would hold my hand and ask me if i was okay. i was six. i thought the show of wounds would earn me love. where did i learn that from? / I WAS SIX / little girl, you’ll grow up, but the malice on your tongue will forever be the words of your father. / every time he opens his mouth, you think it’s to shout. it’s not. / what are memories of childhood if not quicksand? swallowing you whole. / my mother and i, we sit down at the dinner table and translate each other’s hurts, but we do not speak. / because you don’t address the hurt / (it hurts more) / learning to say goodbye but never to let go / choosing to sit in a house that’s burning, because that’s home to you / oh, how i wish this was just a phase, but i am afraid life is becoming a coffin, just with ample space.]

[friesitas]

──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!

𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗎𝖽𝗈 𝗊𝗎𝖾 é 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫

𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝐯𝐨𝐜ê

[ivynightshade]

fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s ‘we were put on this earth desperate, hungry and willing.’

[text id: in a sharp set of knives, i looked for a hand to hold. / i could not stop myself from needing to belong somewhere, even if that somewhere was a burial ground.]

[fatimaamerbilal]

fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s all the blood in my mouth screams devastatingly desperate, miserable girl.