I loved once. It worked out badly.

I think Zero would like orange juice. #choudraws #drakengard3

10H #Nier & Anya #Mouthwashing cosplay crossover! I thought they would make interesting friends due to their... circumstances... #choudraws

Zero again because I love drawing her. This time for the lemon art trend. This was a while ago, this is just a repost! #choudraws

Zero again because I love drawing her. This time for the lemon art trend. This was a while ago, this is just a repost! #choudraws

10H #Nier & Anya #Mouthwashing cosplay crossover! I thought they would make interesting friends due to their... circumstances... #choudraws

I think Zero would like orange juice. #choudraws #drakengard3

Before this, nothing will go down my own throat, neither drink nor food, with my companion dead; food and drink—these things are of no concern at all within my heart, but slaughter is, and blood, and the harsh groaning of men.

Petals blossom at your lips Nectar pools in your eyes The soil fertile on your cheeks Your chest, a vast field of beats

The gaps between your fingers are not made for weaving them with mine. They are made to be closed by mine, so that none of our love may spill from our grasp.

Romance is a story told from hands (a gentle touch, barely there), to eyes (the secrets they hold, the truths they reveal when they dip) to lips (that curl at the corners pulled by strings connected to a heart that startles when fingers graze skin)

I love you. I loved you before and I love you now. So I hope you remain protected, cared for and in abundance. As you have been with, and without me.

Even if this letter does reach you, I am not sure it will reach the right person. Perhaps you are not who I think you are. Perhaps you will also think I'm someone else, and will make a suspicious note in the margin accusing me of being some villainess or other.

A nightbloom shall flower here upon the site of my demise… in darkness blooms the spider lily… from mortal husk I rise anew! Suffused with night, I shall prevail! Am I sunk to my lowest, then…?

The only love I haven't screwed up. She's so hard to please, but she's a forest fire. I do my best to meet her demands, play at romance,

If only my beloved would speak to me,

I get it all wrong – I read you for some kind of poem.

my hour of darkness has lasted at least two years so far

I’ve got nothing poignant to say. I just want my bones and flesh to be held together by your arms.

She is meant to have a prominent bridge in her nose, a curve that signifies royalty beneath her eyes. Her skin fair, with flushes of pink and peach, not of gold and brown sungai. Her hair lush with the waves of sunset and polished tree trunks, not match the nights of swamps and rainforests.

She sees you. All of you. The ways you have devoted your lives to the Virtues, her sisters--the Idolas. A flash of sympathy breaks her frosty gaze. Though her lips don't move, she prays that you find peace in the other side.

I write for myself, and hope it lights a grimy green beacon for my fellow freaks and weirdos to gather 'round

I loved. I’m sorry to have loved.

Dear Rain of my Heart, how are you?

It's been a long week. Rest here, weary writer and artist. You deserve it.

You tore my heart anew, even the rags had no love left for you.

In silence, I cross out your name on the page of my life.

Touch is a depriving little thing, One time it’s a slap to the wrist, The next it’s a warm embrace So the sobs would end.

Do you know how it feels to be erased?

Gods, if you're watching - please wash me away from lustful thoughts of his arms.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I can never say it enough. It's never enough.

I know she is human, and it's impossible to be perfect. She isn't perfect in my eyes, and deep in my heart I hope she will be able to accept the person I truly am inside.

Do regale me with an answer: where do you belong?

••• vetting through older writings and editing for the tweets/posts is realising you can improve your older writing.

Keep burning. If it isn’t for your very own self, do it for me. It is a selfish thought, isn’t it? This is my last request, my last mystery for you to solve, detective. Find that 'something' that will keep you alive.

I do recall daffodils to mean something along the lines of rebirth and new beginnings.

Beauty on beauty should increase the charm of the scenery. But with her haunting charm, she only made the warm spring scene appear unsettling.

I have found you In the depths of my dreams the gaps of my fingers