#thank you so much for your submission
you are valid. you deserve Kindness and respect. you deserve rest and nourishment. you deserve to be seen and loved and heard. you deserve laughter and delight. you may not always have these things, but you are always, always worthy of them. remember, and try to steer your lifeboat toward them.
it’s okay to say no and put yourself first - doing so doesn’t make you a bad person
hey, can you stop for a second, please?
inhale for me
now, exhale
take a moment to reorient yourself - have you had something to drink? have you had food? have you taken your medications, if you need to? maybe it is time to have a shower and change your clothes, too
this is your reminder to breathe and take care of yourself, please. you got this.
you don’t have to be productive all the time; you’re not a machine, you’re a person with aspirations, feelings, and you deserve to be fulfilled and happy - take a break whenever you need to, and please take care
your creations inspire and bring joy, even if for now it is just to yourself, so please try your best to never stop creating, and to not be discouraged
unclench your jaw, drop your shoulders, take a deep breath in and breathe it out slowly - you are going to be okay, you don’t need to have it all figured out today, you are so strong for not giving up, you are not a problem and you are not something that needs to be fixed; you are loved, i promise, and you are absolutely never alone
you’re allowed to exist
studying in a new environment can sometimes help you handle anxious feelings - anxiety doesn’t have to be a barrier to education, and you deserve to learn what you want when you want to
try your hardest to eat something today if you can - no matter how much just eat something
just because you are not the best at something does not mean you are not good at it
any decisions you made in the past were made with the knowledge you had then, not the knowledge you have now - please try your best to be kind to that version of yourself, and to yourself now
it’s okay if your personal progress (especially regarding mental health) isn’t constant, perfect, or linear. sometimes there are ups and downs you can’t necessarily control, and that’s okay. growth is complicated, but it’s always there and it’s always something to be proud of. it’s always there. please don’t be discouraged.
asking for what you need is never asking for too much
his light
“Will you please just—will you please just talkto me?” Mothman chitters at the love of his life. No, Clara wasn’t the love of his life and they both knew it.
“What’s there to talk about?” she asked dreamily.
“You know I can’t abandon her.”
“Even if she’ll kill you?”
Mothman’s antennas flick in agitation. “She won’t kill me.”
Clara’s eyes focused on him, suddenly clear behind her rose-colored glass. “She’ll kill us both.”
“We can’t know that!”
She cocked her head. “But I do.”
His wings fluttered. “Clara, darling…”
“Mothie…”
“I can’t leave her.”
“So you’ll leave me instead?”
“That’s not—”
“But it is. The light doesn’t love you and I don’t love the light. She’ll kill me, one day, just as she’ll kill you. Would you rather die with me or against me?”
“I’m not going to die.”
Clara began to walk away from Mothman. He fluttered after her, eyes darting about in their dark apartment. She dodged the furniture easily, having lived in shades of gray her whole life. Well, not shades of gray. More like gray tinted pink. Either way, she knew their apartment in the dark, her writing hours often turning her into somewhat of a cryptid in her own right.
“I just don’t understand why we keep having this fight,” Clara said.
“Because you avoid conflict.”
Clara shot him a look over her shoulder, but he could see the smile in her face that means she knew he was right. He fluttered over to her and placed a hand on her arm. “Clara, darling.”
“Yes, Mothman?”
He hesitated. “You and I are opposites, you know.”
“How so?”
“Well,” he started. “I love the light. Her beauty is incomparable.” Clara glared at him. “And I… I can’t live without her. But you mustlive without her. I want her and you avoid her and yet…”
“She’ll kill us both,” Clara whispered. “And I have plenty of reasons to avoid your affair.”
Clara moved out from under his touch, and Mothman shuddered in the lack of her heat. She sat on the sofa and tucked her legs up under her, stared over his shoulder. “I just don’t know if I can do this anymore.”
“But where—where would you go? Who would live in the darkness with you? Who would love you the way that I do?”
“Do you love me, Mothman? Because here I was thinking you were in love with the light.”
Mothman flinched.
He fluttered up until he was resting against the rug on the ceiling, clinging to it.
“I hate when you do that,” she said.
“You hate everything about me.”
“That is not true,” she scoffed.
“What do you love about me then?”
He could see the blush on her cheeks, and his eyes glowed to know that he was the cause of that. Oh, to still be able to affect her.
“Mothie…”
He braced himself harder against the ceiling. Her cheeks were still that wonderful pink color, lighting up her pale skin like the sun on the moon. If the moon were pink. And the way she sat… he sniffed, his moth senses heightening his everything.
“Clara…”
Clara looked up at him, pushing her glasses up her face with one finger. “Do you really love her more than me? Even though she hurts you?”
Mothman was silent, contemplating.
Did he love the sun—his light—in all her glory? The way she scorched his wings, hanging high in the sky like the goddess she was, unattainable? Did he love her servants, trapped in bulbs, zapping him every time he came close? Did he love them—his light, his sun—more than the light of his life? The light that shone without needing to, who looked up at him in their apartment with glossy eyes and red-rimmed promises? Did he love the dream more than the reality?
He dropped from the ceiling, and Clara shrieked, causing his antennas to quiver. He couldn’t tell if her noise was in excitement or fear—he wouldn’t mind either.
“Clara…”
“Mothie…” She reached out and stroked a hand down his furry face, and his glowing eyes closed as he leaned into her gentle touch.
“You, Clara, are the light of my life. Not the sun, not her lightbulbs, not the fluorescents that hurt you so much. You. You are the only sun I need.”
It was like Clara couldn’t help herself anymore—she grabbed Mothman by the face and kissed him, hard. He could feel her glasses pressing into the bridge of his nose as his wings displayed his excitement, and he wrapped his own arms around her. He lifted them both up, and they floated, kissing.
Clara was the only light he would ever need in his house of darkness—because she chose to dwell there too.
plea of the artist (2022)
“i hope you dont mind my poems like please just vibe!!!! just Vibe”
submitted by @lilac-est
yesterdays print!!(2022?)
“ghost dead husband, poor man had such appetite, says widow. spirit visitor threatens to eat her out”
submitted by @kotomikamillentee
