Moments of weakness are only that.

Moments.

There is not a single thing

That can keep me down, ever again.

I’ve felt life

I can see that there’s still so much left to experience here

Pain is only a portion of everything else.

Frequently you cross my mind

I just observe you

Fleeting and blue

Like a field full of forget-me-nots

If he made us all in his Image why are there so many rapists,pedophiles and murderers out there? Why do brothers lay with sisters? Why do parents murder their children (oh wait. Sorry Jesus) and vice versa? Why do the innocent always seem to die horribly while the evil and corrupt get cushy lives and peaceful deaths?

Why does humanity sit and carelessly destroy the planet and one another? Why do they never learn?

Okay?

I’ve never felt better.

This is where I want to be right now. This would be home for just the moment. This would be peace.

A biblically accurate angel should cosplay beyblade

I had the weirdest experience earlier.

I felt like I had wings again of some sort but…like they were nude and cut part way to the shoulder blade. They didn’t hurt though and while I missed how it used to feel with my full wingspan and feathers it felt good to feel themandmove themagain.

He is well aware you would die for him - it’s howhe’s going to kill you that he hasn’t quite decided.

He is the End. Plagues of locusts, rising sea levels, nuclear winter, blood of the gods. But to hold him in your arms slows the beating of his doomsday heart. When the sun rises for the two of you once again, the world continues to turn.

Kiss the scars on his back so he can caress you with the ghost of his feathers.

the word ‘memory’ tastes bitter because of you

there’s fire behind my eyes

no glory without pain. no victory without blood.

Modern angels

Angels smoking cigarettes off of balconies. They write proverbs on bathroom walls and sing hymns in the aisles of grocery stores.

Angels still filled with fury from before. They hold a grudge. They carry a knife. Their words are sharp and hurt worse than any blade ever could.

Angels with soft voices and hard eyes. Angels trying to fit in. They’re trying to erase the pain

Angels with wrists covered in runes, angels trying to speak in the tongues that used to come so naturally but this mouth just can’t form the words.

Angels you meet on the street. They touch your shoulder and you’re struck with lightning.

Angels filled with ideas. Their mind is buzzing. Covered in paint and chalk, you know they’re miles ahead of you.

Angels on their front porches, drinking sweet tea with a goddess. It’s nothing like ambrosia, but it’s close enough.

Angels with bloody noses and a smile. Angels who’re confused by this life. It’s not so black and white anymore.

Angels who speak with their fists and are close to none. Their Father has left them in the dust. No one can help them.

Angels holding their partners close while dancing. This life won’t last forever, so they wanna hold her tight while they can.

the things i’ve done will haunt me in my dreams. 

do you think someone you know is an angel? 

look into their eyes. can you see the old spirit? they’ve been here since the beginning, after all.

have you ever seen them cry? many don’t, yet some manage to look beautiful while doing so. it brings back harsh memories, the golden blood of their siblings on their hands. 

many dress in white, glad at an opportunity to meet new people and admire this world. yet some shield themselves in dark tones, to the point where they could be mistaken for the thing they hate the most. 

some may be clean, soft and gentle, with bright eyes reminding you of your happiest moments. they move through the world softly, taking care to not ruin this body of theirs. 

others are loud. they are the life of the party, wild soul inspiring joy and energy into everyone around them. but when they are alone, they find the tears falling again as they trace their bare bodies, where the wings once were. if given time, they could make a constellation of flaws on this awful vessel. 

some you pass on the street, and it’s as if lightening had struck you. you’re in the presence of something divine, and it’s all you can feel. a few of them hide it more carefully, writing scriptures in bathrooms and old alleys. drawing runes on parts of their body only they can see. 

they don’t want to remember, it makes them feel dirty and ashamed of where they are now

so, have you ever met an angel?

hey!!

does anyone wanna join an angelkin / demonkin instagram GC? angels and demons from fictional sources are welcome !!! just dm @rkninehundreds on insta!! if it gets big enough, i’ll contemplate a discord !