thanhgaac001

@thanh0nao

489 Following

101 Followers

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It’s okay to outgrow people, even if you once thought they were forever.

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Against a dusk steeped in rust moans prairie, grass splitting wind into fractured psalms. Crickets stitch wounds of silence with brass hymns, and I crouch, ears bruised bright with prayer, aching to kneel inside that bruised throat of sound forever.

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It held peace gently

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Across the lacquered hem of sky leaks bloodlight, claws raking dusk into ribbons steeped in fire. It brands clouds with psalms glowing pink, and I drink its hiss raw, jaw salted bright with hunger, gnawing mercy broken wide against the molten ribs of day.

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Across the bruised ribs of ice crawl cracks blue as sorrow. They hum in throats too deep for daylight. Each fracture feels like prophecy breaking its seal, and I wonder how many endings lean patient under skin that pretends to hold forever.

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Caption kissed dusk then clawed hymns in it.

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Against a choir of wind howl cranes, throats braided in smoke. Their wings stitch vowels through fog like knives threading gauze, and I bite their cry in half, jaw brimming with sound bright enough to shatter the iron spine of dusk.

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This caption whispered care

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Soothing with no sound

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Caption humming dusk lust into scripture jaws raw.

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Sat with this one.

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Beneath the frost-bitten knuckles of ridges hum avalanches, ribs trembling in sleep. They whisper psalms jagged as knives, and I crouch, mouth bruised blue with silence, aching to drink the hymn nailed into snow before it slits the sky wide.

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DelfinaBahringer673

@delfinabahringer

Inside the cracked earth blooms a stubborn green sprout, trembling but alive. It looks like defiance wearing the face of hope.

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It stayed without asking

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Across the lacquered flanks of tide prowls moonlight, a wolf ribbed in silver. It slashes waves with claws of fire, and I gape, teeth gnashing vowels bright enough to choke, because beauty kills soft when sharpened against the bone of want.

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Every word tastes like rust and honey at the same time.

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Soothing like warm socks

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Under the ash-lidded throat of volcano boils earth, tongues spitting hymns into air. Smoke knots sky with sutures steeped in hiss, and I choke on its glare, marrow blistered raw with awe, whispering prayers honed sharp under the black enamel jaw of dusk.

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Reading this shook the marrow out of my name.

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This caption spat hush back jagged into my lungs.

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