Jubilee

“Insomniac's Lullaby

It is 3.13am and in milk-tooth slices
the moon pokes through blinds
and dapples my teenage bedroom alabaster
white, cotton ichor of a godless sky
planting silk-soft kisses on
half-chewed fingertips -

and if this is what they mean
by purgatory, please
tell my mum

I'm alright.”
― Dakota Warren

“I spent half my time loving her and the other half hiding how much I loved her.”
― Taylor Jenkins Reid, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

“I hope to arrive to my death, late, in love, and a little drunk.”
― Atticus c

“God died before we were born. Our grandparents felt the last of him, that's why they nail crosses above their beds and drape rosaries from their necks. There's no heaven anymore and they'll take that to their grave. He'll be stuck in limbo and we'll probably meet Him there and just because we're baptised doesn't mean we're owed salvation. The angels are homesick and they can't find their wings, and I think I met an angel in hospital, but we're sick, and they're dying, and there's a difference. There is a difference. We all have blood on our hands but we're all too clean for hell.”
― Dakota Warren, On Sun Swallowing