I caught fire, as if the parts of me born from dead stars had once again learned how to burn.
Self-portrait
I caught fire, as if the parts of me born from dead stars had once again learned how to burn.
Self-portrait
Photography by Richard Andrews
Photography by Boris Mirkin
More than anything, I wanted to sate your hunger. I wanted to be your muse, your missing puzzle piece. I ached to be the sliver of joy that made your picture complete.
Self-portrait
Photography by Abigail Saturday
I held onto the thorns long after the petals had wilted. I squeezed until the thing I loved hurt me, because if I let go, the barbs would be bloody and I would be scarred and it would all have been for nothing.
Self-portrait
No amount of time would ever convince you I was enough. But I was and I am and it’s not my fault there are parts of me you were unwilling to see.
Photography by Scott Rust
Some people linger. Their presence stays like an itch that won’t be scratched. And some nights you will be so desperate to claw them out of you, you will tear holes in your skin.
Photography by Forrest Stinson
Love is not always beautiful, and what grows from it is not always kind. Sometimes, it is suffocating.
Hanahaki is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from unrequited love.
Photography by Morgan Root
She told me days with her would be a needle on a motel floor, and if it didn’t kill me, it would leave me wanting more.
Photography by Boris Mirkin