Tumgik
#emotten
emotten · 2 years
Text
a dream of the undead
Life is starting over again.
I've been buried for so long. Now my hands claw at the soil to drag my tired body from the eternal sleep of death. Gasping, my first breath of fresh air in so long. I collapse on the surface and gaze up at the sky. The stars wink and twinkle, welcome home.
Nothing is familiar and nothing feels real. Everything is strange, like a dream, like I'm not really here; it's all a mirage. Life is starting over again and I am a brand new infant child. I know nothing. But it is the mystery that pushes me forward, it is the longing to learn that propels me into my future.
I am ready to live yet another life, I am only afraid to say goodbye to the one that I have so arduously built. Again, I must kill the old me. Again, I have to say goodbye to all I know and step forward into the bright white emptiness of uncertainty. No, I don't have to.
I get to start over. I get to become new, to evolve, to broaden my mind and grow as a human being. The fear is there, but not so much that I do not recognize how lucky I am for the opportunity to shed my old self and emerge as someone better, once more.
I get to advance, to move higher toward enlightenment, to reach out further into the ever-expanding universe, to connect myself firmly with the ground upon which I walk and the air that fills my lungs. Life; I get another chance to live it.
I just hope that, this time, I get it right.
0 notes
lilspookytarot · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media
1 note · View note
w0lfbabe · 7 years
Text
If u wanna get to know me in a different way...
Follow my personal blog Here.
1 note · View note
Photo
Tumblr media
@emotten @viothepaintingfairy 
Ray-Ban Sunglasses
1 note · View note
emotten · 2 years
Text
She~from WILD LOVE
She is love incarnate; 
She is strong 
And flawed.
She is confident,
And modest.
She is pained,
And optimistic.
She is power
And vulnerability.
A gift and a curse.
She is life…
3 notes · View notes
emotten · 2 years
Text
closure~from WILD LOVE
And so, she went back to the place the two of them last met, searching for an answer. Something in the sand, in the waves as they crashed upon the beach, something in the creaking of the swings had to tell her what had gone wrong. Somewhere, there must have been an answer etched into the wooden benches or spelled out in clouds in the sky. But the longer she searched, the more she realized that there was no answer that would be good enough. She was gone, and that’s all there was to it, no matter what the cause, no matter what the reason. It was over.
2 notes · View notes
emotten · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media
"The Dead Poet”
--e.m.otten
7 notes · View notes
emotten · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
"Together in a Room"
--e.m.otten
5 notes · View notes
emotten · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
—e.m.otten
2 notes · View notes
emotten · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media
“Shades of Green”
--e.m.otten
2 notes · View notes
emotten · 3 years
Text
Trying,
Always,
Desperately,
To fit into this space
You’ve made for me,
Only to
Discover
Continuously
That I
Am not
The proper
Shape.
4 notes · View notes
emotten · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
will this high ever be enough or will I keep on searching for something to make me feel the way you did the way you do when I think of you right before I recall how we can no longer touch the highest high will never be enough
1 note · View note
emotten · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
"Her Face"
--e.m.otten
1 note · View note
emotten · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media
“Shades of Green, pt. 2″
--e.m.otten
1 note · View note
emotten · 3 years
Text
The moon is at 85% illumination.
I can feel it growing... like a balloon beneath my skin, inflating and pulling until it is full and it splits me apart. My flesh will tear and fall to the floor in shreds to leave behind a crumbling cage of bone.
From within this trap, the beast will emerge. The thing that is always trapped deep inside me will be set free. The monster will prowl and maim, as monsters do and, in the morning, I will be the one to face the consequences.
I wish I could stop the moon from growing, or simply pause it at full. The torture is not the change, but the realization that I will always transform back into this lesser creature after all the damage is done.
5 notes · View notes
emotten · 3 years
Text
The waning moon Like salt on a wound- Like lying in a garden of Nightshade in bloom- Darkens the skies, Wipes tears from my eyes, And covers me in petals Of comforting lies.
3 notes · View notes