edmond-monet

Latest Posts by edmond-monet

Communion

And when I place the body of Christ underneath my tongue, when He dissolves like fine sand, like sweet honey. and when I gasp, when my pupils dilate, as I glance at His heaven, 

Will you seethe? Will you lurch forward, claws digging into my shoulder blades, ripping out the muscle to lay flaccid on my back? Will you remember our nights, reach down to my Achilles tendon, and tear it? Will you force me on my knees, and not allow me to fly away? Will you grasp my two hands in your larger ones, crush my palms together, and will you beg for my forgiveness? And once you have forced me into loyalty, will the blood wash from our hands?

I would go through it all again for you

a hundred times

but I do not think I would still be me

when it was over

on the two angels that visited me at work

matching white coats, dirty from being on earth too long; a kaleidoscope of color inside the younger one’s hood

they are mean to each other, but that’s just how angels are. it’s all they know. the taller one rolls its eyes— all of them— every time the younger one can’t make up xer mind. the younger calls it a slur in a language no one can speak.

more than a few dollars short for the wire cutters and sealant they need, so I hand them a twenty.

the taller one insists it doesn’t know me, I don’t see how that matters, so I tell it, “it’s a gift.”

but the word “gift” feels like the word “offering”

a last ditch attempt to appease a god who ignored me all my life

maybe this is a last piece; a last peace, a treaty.

and echoes in my mind whisper:

“be kind to strangers

lest they be angels in disguise”

and I would rip myself apart for you,

crack open my ribcage and let you

take whatever you wanted.

but you have been teaching me

that you do not need me to,

that I do not need me to.

being trans is a bit like

running hands over yourself and thinking

“i cannot wait for there to be a scar there

in the place of something else”

to know that all that will be left is the mark

a tangible reminder of how the creator wronged you

and how you made it right

hiiiii i know this is really stupid and idk if u even remember what we became mutuals for (frankenstein. i think) but ive always loved ur poetry since the day i knew that u posted that stuff but ive been too shy to say anything of it cuz i do gen admire ur writing like A Lot. i also just realised somehow i havent reblogged any of ur writing at all so. Let Me Amend That

i'm not usually this awkward talking to people i swear 😭😭 im good at talking to ppl i admire and shoot a compliment very quickly but it's like. idk i just Really like ur poetry

omg! I should really write some more soon I’ve just been so busy 😭 we should talk Frankenstein sometime though!

URGENT HELP🚨🚨🚨🍉🇵🇸

Hello,

How do you do ? I hope to be in a good condition.

This is my special campaign

We hope to help us by donating or sharing to others.

Every donation makes a different even if it a small.

As you know, the war began on October 7 and lasted ten months. During this period, we were unable to obtain food, drink, or treatment because we did not have money.

There is no source of income for the family at the present time, so we are unable to buy food, clean water, and medicine, especially after we are afflicted with the ongoing infectious diseases spread in the north like Hepatitis C disease.

Our house has been damaged a lot since the beginning of the war. We are from the north of Gaza and we are still in the north and have not displaced to the south. We displaced 10 times from place to another seeking to safety .

We hope for your help and support, even if only a little.

Vetted By Femme intifada on telegram.

This is the link if you would to read our story well 👇👇

https://gofund.me/4e896ac1

Thank you all

no one deserves to endure what you and your countrymen have endured. all my love to you.

Palestine will be free.

the screaming that bounces around the inside of my skull is back to grace me with its presence. guttural and keening and feral.

i take another sip from my soda can and pretend i do not hear it, because to let it out into the world, where it would transform from visceral agony to banal noise, would be worse than enduring it silently. at least this way i can still feel it. at least this way no one else has to.

fireflies honestly make me cry a little. out of gratitude and wonder. thank goodness we live in a world with bioluminescence. thank goodness we live in a world where it can fly.

the wind keeps reaching through the open window of my car. she is trying to rip my heart out from under my seatbelt.

I wonder what she wants with it.

I am not a girl,

but rather a boy in the way

that I am burdened a daughter.

disappointingly so.

red wine drips from lips

like blood and

god knows it’ll never

be enough and

each hit burns like

it’s the first

you think you just might

die of thirst and

dorian, you’re gonna die

but pretty darling,

so am I

so you and I,

we’ll go down together

you’ll destroy yourself

and I’ll haunt you forever

nothing left to say but

beauty does not stay and

paint it fades and dries and

time it always flies

so hold me on the way down,

and do me no harm,

i cause myself enough injury

from day to day, love

god will never love me the way he loves you,

and that is all the assurance I have in this world.

suspended in a bubble of hiraeth

the tear frozen on my cheek

in the subzero sunlight,

my home is a person,

and they are too far from me

I am holding my bloody heart out to you, my hands stained with red from holding it for so long.

and while you are not the person who ripped it out of my chest,

you are the person I am trusting to take care of it.

maybe you can put it back in for me.

was it not enough that you stole

my heart, my lungs, and spine?

i do not have the stomach for it anymore.

I stood dead at a grave that was not mine

a friend of a friend long since gone, though

killing me only now.

grief is as death,

is as life,

is as humanity.

we mourn the empirical fastenings

of those who came before

most now dead and buried in swill;

beheaded

as they had their time, so shall I

as they loved, so shall I

as they died in a thousand ways,

fractals spinning through space

through the human mind

eternally soaring in mist and

touching heaven for but a moment

before all, all is lost

and down they fall into the black

window of obscurity;

so shall I.

hii ik we don’t interact much, but i just want to say that i love seeing u pop up in my notifs !

i also really love ur poetry. i totally resonate w the emotions being conveyed :^) please don’t ever stop writing !!! <3

❤️ aww, thank you! the support is really appreciated! much love to you as well!!

Gouache 🎨

i know what i want now

i didn’t before

i want cold mornings and leaves that crunch under our feet.

I want warm blankets.

I want a house in the woods.

I want clean air and sunshine and my own means of living.

a hand to hold, someone to confide in

I want to be loved; but I most of all,

I want to be loved by you.

I used to think you were a smart man

now I’m not so sure

in fact

I think you told us several times

when I was younger

that you were anything but

you scared me too much to test that

I hope the people who live in our old house

look at the dent in the freezer

that you nearly broke your foot making

because you wished you could have done

it to me instead

and wonder how it got there

and soon enough they will discover

the lines I scratched into the wood

into the walls

little traces of anger

it fills every support beam,

every wall,

every floorboard like rot

spreading

consuming

devouring

There are so many terrible things in the world and I refuse to let myself become one of them

(Nov. 11)

(Nov. 11)

I think I shall never forget the first time

seeing my mother’s new name

on a package with mine

I think she is getting better.

so am I.

We're going to be adapting Carmilla!

Stay tuned to hear the trailer on the Re: Dracula feed in a week, or join our patreon and listen right now! Since we're funding the miniseries via patreon, there will be lots of perks and early access audio for supporters. Production will take place in 2024, once we've fully wrapped Re: Dracula!

“i’m sorry,” I whisper desperately.

i’m sorry for feeling too much.

I’m sorry that it spills out of me uncontrolled, violently.

i’m sorry I was never handled gently.

i’m sorry nobody ever taught me what love is.

something is rotting.

the smell pervades the house, wafting through the halls, seeping under the doorframes.

it’s subtle at first. easy to ignore. i turn on a fan and soon enough I’ve gone noseblind.

it’s been three days. I found a little mouse dead on the floor. it’s small. too small.

the smell gets worse. the fan is on all the time now. I put perfume under my nose to block it out. eventually, I grow numb.

a week. there is no escaping it. I have looked everywhere. it has stained all my clothes. It is here, somewhere, the source of it.

it has been months. I cannot leave. I am weak. it affects me constantly.

something is rotting.

it is me. it has always been me.

The Winter, Alexandre Calame, 1851