yari

“I made you into my private Christ, supplicated with my own dark devotions. Nothing existed beyond the range of your exacting gaze, not even me. I was simply a non-entity when you weren't looking at me, an empty vessel waiting to be filled by the sweet water of your attention.
A woman can't live like that, my Lord. No one can. Don't ask me why I did it.
God, forgive me.
Christ, forgive me.”
― S.T. Gibson, A Dowry of Blood

“I suspect, Lord, that when you combed
the constellations for my elements,
the stardust was still rife
with the ghosts of fallen angels.
I can hear that darkness tapping at my ribs
and what’s worse,
I’ve learned to sleep through the sound.”
― S.T. Gibson

“It’s amazing what people create using their pain. Work that is touched by melancholy has its own unique beauty. Even the word ‘melancholy’ is pretty, the way it rolls on your tongue. I think sadness adds something to literature that is unique. It’s an ingredient like . . .” I thought for a moment. “Like salt. Salt has that power to completely transform a dish. I think sadness has that same transformative effect in literature.”
― Lang Leav, Sad Girls

“People get dumped all the time, and it sucks, but you know what you do? You cry; you smash a few plates; you go to a karaoke bar and make a fool of yourself. However you choose to deal with it, it’s your shit to handle. It’s your burden to carry. You don’t drag other people down with you. You don’t turn up on the doorstep in the middle of the night acting like a raving lunatic.”
― Lang Leav, Sad Girls