Sun Bleached Flies - Tumblr Posts
“God loves you, but not enough to save you.” but it’s Jason Todd in his final moments
Know it's for the better!! If it's meant to be then it will be!!!
so i just kept praying, and praying, and praying
if its meant to be then it will be
so i met him there and told him i believe
singin if its meant to be then it will be
and i forgive it all as it comes back to me
sun bleached flies was my song of the summer
when the situation so bad you have to listen to sun bleached flies to remind urself that if it’s meant to be then it will be
sun bleached flies summer, sun bleached flies autumn, sun bleached flies winter, sun bleached flies spring.
Okey, I'm afraid.....
Graffiti on a bathroom door at my college 💌🛐
Listening to Sun Bleached Flies isn’t enough. I need it to absorb me.
No but like- in the end if I bend under the weight that they gave me, then this heart would break and fall as twice as far‼️
No no no no, you werent listening. If it's meant to be.... Then it will be
If there is a specific aesthetic linked to Hannibal (specifically season 1-2) , House of Wax (2005), Jeepers Creepers (1 and 2 ONLY) and Ethel Cain’s music and music videos pls tell me I need to make a Pinterest board.
bittersweet symphony - the verve / unknown / the civil war - anne sexton / sun bleached flies - ethel cain / unknown / head of a young girl - jean baptiste greuze / @avainblue / sun bleached flies - ethel cain
finally got around to scanning this. i hand sewed the words on this one & god it was tedious.
@mothercain
i am a firsthand witness to my father's anger. i am his only child so engaged in following his footsteps. the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, they say, but i am not an apple and he is not a tree. though his face is oaky and strong and mine is red and blistering, so different yet so alike, what differentiates us from one another will always walk a thin line of existence and delusion. i am still the embodiment of his worst qualities. i still harbor the nature that scared me as a child. though he was understanding and kind, though his eyes were gentle and blue, they could still grow cold. the weathered hands that once cradled me as a child were still capable of bleeding. the comfort in his voice could teeter over the thick bridge of careful consolation and could harden like ice, cold and unloved. i am a firsthand witness to my father's anger. i am the only one so imbued in becoming just like him.
i wish to be a lover. i wish for my hands to be careful and soft. i wish to cradle the fists that have beaten me and wash the feet of those who have kicked me to the ground. i wish to love in any way that is not pathetic or desperate. i wish to be able to express myself without rage. i wish to be without rage. i wish to be without. i wish.
i am the precursor to my mother's misery. my very being is her burden. they tell me that this is what she had signed up for. that this was her duty as a mother. i tell them she should not have given herself up simply to cater to her children. i tell them she should not have given up. there was a time where she was free. where she could dance and sing and laugh without worry. where she could pursue her career and go home to an empty house with a big dog named after a flower. where she could cry and smile and spin around in circles with her arms in the air. where she could run down the streets of the city in the rain with nothing but the clothes on her back and the warmth of her best friend's hand holding hers. i am the precursor to my mother's misery. my existence has only caused her plague.
i wonder about the woman she would have been had I not been born. i wonder how much love she could have felt before she met my father. i wonder if she would have often thought about someone who has not yet existed. i wonder if she would have missed me. i wonder if she misses me. i wonder if she misses. i wonder.
i am a testament to my sister's loneliness. i am the final piece of evidence that everyone will leave her. we had grown close when we were younger. two peas in a pod, is what they had called us. opposite sides of the same coin. best friends on two ends of the same earth. different, yet so, so alike. so similar it makes me want to rot. we grew distant with age and time, as all siblings do, but have never reached that breaking point where we cave in and come back to one another. i wonder if i should have stayed. if i should have reached out one bleary night where the moon was drunk and the stars were slow dancing in the sky. if i could have done anything to make her feel less hollow. if i could remember that i am not her keeper, that her suffering did not have to bleed into mine. i am the testament to my sister's loneliness. i am a monster for not feeling guilty for it.
i crave guilt. i crave to let it consume me and turn me into nothing. i crave to feel something that makes me just a bit more human. i crave to hate leaving her, to regret it for just one moment. i crave to hate her. i crave to hate. i crave
you poor thing, sweet mourning lamb
touch me til i vomit