I Need A Way To Say This Character Makes Me Feel Insane Amounts Of Lust But Not In A Sexual Or Romantic

You CAN do deep squats, my friend!

It’s an old tradition that during a leap year women could propose to men. This was usually depicted as old or ugly women trapping men, but some art focused more on the role reversal and could be quite cute.

I have a soft spot in my heart for the last one because it plays on the idea of “undesirable” people, a tall masculine woman and a shy effeminate man, finding each other but instead of mocking them depicts it as sweet that she could finally ask him because he was too shy and insecure to ask her.

muse

My muse, my light, my art knows your shades as if it were its own

I will immortalize you in my world, through and through.

With my brushstrokes as sharp as your words, with my colors as bright as your hearts core.

If you ruin me, i will let you.

you wear damaged scars on the tip of your fingertips,

My eyes only regard them for how they fabricate you glow,

Your breath a phantom of the winds soft kiss,

As you break my heart, I will beg you to do it slow.

My lovely muse with the deepest water under the shore,

I will drown, deeper and deeper with a smile till all ends,

As the life falls out of my being onto your ocean floor,

My love knew no limits, i loved as soft as cotton tends.

My ever young light, you live forever in my art

I watch gladly, as you tear me apart.

the color purple

It was the way you saw me, like I was a cherry a day too ripe, the bruise you got while scraping your knee from when you were five ( it hasn’t left, it never will ) , the color my eyelids saw when they were mourning the loss of never being known by you,  how you imagine jellyfish to look like ( don’t touch it, don’t touch it )

I touch it, I am consumed, I transform. I did not drown, I chose to break the dominion.

A spare gravestone, I fall  on it. It’s blurry ( the death of reappropriation )  the absurd moth you saw from your window sill , the act of letting it linger for far too long, a written letter that your mother tore out of anger, a wounded deer that won’t let anyone touch her ( stay away ) ( but it’s calling to me ) (or do you want to be called out to )

Sickly smooth, easy to touch. Soap covered hands, I bring them to my eyes, they sting. ( I thought it wouldn’t, not to this extent

But it is also feeling jealousy for the first time, it is also smelling burnt popcorn that my best friend made, I laugh ; it’s soft , it is okay

11:19

DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE PJO!!! BECAUSE I DO, I LOVE IT.

i have a maths exam tomorrow,, dont be surprised if i just drop dead after that

i don't think i want to have a husband if he's like my father

girls fixing their necklaces like businessmen fix their ties

source? i felt it in my heart

Reminder that things can change. Reminder that things can get better. Reminder that just because things are the way they are now, that doesn't mean they have to be that way forever.

It's not set in stone.