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to love is to destroy

@ezekestiel / ezekestiel.tumblr.com

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serafique

guys i’m in london from the the 26th to the 28th for the melanie martinez concert with my friends and then im going back to london on the 30th to visit my uni but i’m alone on that day. doesn’t anyone want to hang out on the 30th? i’ll buy you coffee and lunch and be a cute peach and take photos of you if you want?

#this is from my sideblog if anyone was wondering
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serafique

srry if this sounds concieted but honestly i’m the sweetest summer peach, the brightest of cherries?? 🍒🍑

#me#selfie
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serafique
january: evening bible- the day before school after a break will always feel like a sunday. jean jacket prophecies. i wore you on my sleeves the same way writers keep words tucked under their fingernails. a story about veins; love fades the same way ships sink- slowly and then rapidly. water filled my cavities, flushed you out. february: you were a cult to me, cool-aid ceremony recited during late night phone conversations. you lips stopped reminding me of summer. everything changed and i felt light again. you went away thinking you’d stay but there are things that happen when you break someone that way. i’m sorry but you will remember me when you kiss other girls. or maybe you won’t and that’s perfectly fine. march: i will shine, golden and radiant, rose water on my neck. i had my reasons and they didn’t justify my faults. i saw planes dragging banners with all my mistakes etched on them. i don’t relive it but i can’t forget your words and how much you were wrong and right. it almost killed me but i was wrong about everything. letting you go was the easiest thing i’ve done and no one will ever understand because i’ve lost the words i used to have when you were here with me. it’s like i spoke a different language. april: it’s still now: almost summer, air rotten sweet, cartilage crack of twilight thick and winter soaked. i’m so glad you left because my heart is mine again, all of it’s rooms mine to air out. windows ajar, windows fucking torn out of their frames. things fly in at night but they have nothing to do with you. things fly in and they get caught in flower vases and mosquito nets and i drive them out with brooms and i sit in the middle of the dark room like a sacrificial ritual where i am the blood and the vessel and the god. it isn’t home but it’s safe.

(via serafique)

#my poetry
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excuse me, if someone asks a woman to make a furniture it’s sexism but suddenly if she asks me to rearrange the sandwich it’s okay ?? #meninism #deletefeminsim #trump2k16

#delphina says things
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