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I have always loved the smell after
Lightning storms.
That unique mix of
Petrichor and ozone and the damp, tired earth.
Everything is softer – that strange, clear, watercolour haze
And I become hypersensitive, engulfed by the fumes of nature.
If I could bottle it, it would be the feeling I get,
A few hours after a panic attack.
Once chaos has passed and the worst has happened,
But I survived anyway.
It is the peacefulness that strikes me, how I feel so alive,
Filled with quiet energy to the tips of my fingers and toes.

You were a human hurricane long before I was.

I’m two people these days:
One is
150 mph winds,
Violent raindrops,
The running, moving, twisting, turning,
Running, running, running, running.
The other is
The place where
It’s always just over, always yet to begin.
The interlude, the perfect view, centre stage,
My favourite place in a spectacular show:
the eye of the storm.
Two girls fighting for air in a body barely built for one.

One of them tells me I should have been there for you, been better, been what you needed.
The other reminds me of how your howling winds scared me,
Made me think of a weak sound I’d heard at night
Reverberating from within my out ribcage.

When panic sets in, I am caught in a storm.
I transcend absence and presence, curl into myself to hide from the worst,
Feel everything but reality, cannot control myself because I’m running on
Instinct and adrenaline and anything but free will.

I wonder how it was for you, if you wished
You could hand out your worries on the street corner,
Transform self-help mantras into siren song,
Sell bottles of your tears at the village fair, and hope to God
That you’ll actually rise from the ashes once the fire is out
So your claims about the phoenix who donated them won’t be
Fraud, like the rest of you.

I wish I’d listened to you like I was forgiveness
And you were a self-conscious, unnecessary apology.
I wished I’d held your hand like it was antique crystal,
Beautiful, but bruised and battered to the fragility of
Near breaking point.
If you are Medusa, I hope I’m not Athena.

When it comes to these regrets, I cannot finish a thought
Without interruption from the truth:
I could not have sewn you back together when my skin
Split every time I moved, I was already losing too much blood.
I could not have carried your passion to save it
For a day when you could manage it again,
I could not have held onto your willpower when you tried to throw it
I know I covered my eyes to it all,
But if I had watched you fall, I would have run to catch you.
And with my shredded skin,
My soul would have spilled all over the kitchen floor.

'Bystander' Emma (via moredistantthanstars)







Why doesn’t this have a million notes?!

i love how the “did you drug them” has a little pit stop at “you’re evil”

As well it should.

I’ve reblogged this before but Imma do it again because a)it’s awesome and b) I have a specific voice when I say “Do not do the sex”.

This needs to be on a billboard and posters all around the world. Maybe even on menus are restaurants

Needs to be in bars

(Source: saddestsad)






are you fucking kidding me

apparently america is not ready

give us a gay princess anyway

not just a gay princess, a gay everything, give us a film where everything is gay.

You know what they need to do? They need to pull a Li-Shang with everyone

Have the main character be androgynous and have the audience assume it’s a female and use gender neutral pronouns the whole time

Have the prince come to ‘her’ rescue and they fall in love

Here’s the kicker the prince knows that the main character is a guy, everyone in the movie does except the audience

And in the last scene they get married and they’re both wearing tuxes and it’s just like “presenting King __ and King __” and everyone in the movie is cool with it like wgaf

So basically make all these homophobes ship the thing and then the last scene be like GUESS WHAT IT’S GAY


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