*Pierre-Auguste*

Status: gone gone gone
Joined: May 2, 2013
Last Seen: 5 years
Birthday: June 12
user id: 359105
Location: Paris
Gender: F
I'm Cécile. I like Moët champagne, monochromatic clothes, and saturated colours.

*Pierre-Auguste*'s Favorite Quotes

the waters cool hands hold my face with simple adoration. my eyes sting as my nostrils are evaded, but still i do not care. i lay as sight drifts away to ripples of sunlight, and soon my lungs are filled not with air, but the lives of the ocean.
6 0 *nerium* *nerium*
idk
The flower is the poetry of reproduction. It is an example of the eternal seductiveness of life.

18 2 *exploit* *exploit*
life
The ties of flesh are deep and strong, the capacity to love is a vital, rich, and all-consuming function of the human animal, and you can find nobility and sacrifice and love wherever you might seek it out.

12 0 seafoam* seafoam*
rodserling
I stand, abandoned, by the side of the road. My neck prickles with the humid mask of dried sweat, and my feet ache as dust rises in a cloud the colour of butterscotch - thick and heavy, it settles in my eyes. and I do not know if they are watering because of foreign fibres, or if I am crying because you left me.
11 0 *exploit* *exploit*
love
my lungs are as clenched tight as my fists
and i'd probably die before they unconstrict
i'd probably die before you started loving me too

24 0 hyperion* hyperion*
heydadthisonesforyou

When you are little, night time is scary because there are monsters hiding right under the bed. When you get older, the monsters are different. Self doubt, loneliness, regret. And though you may be older and wiser, you still find yourself scared of the dark.

25 0 seafoam* seafoam*
dark
          when i was younger, i had a deathly fear of bugs, and unfortunately sharp eyes. i would see a bug sitting on the wall, and i would stop absolutely everyone and everything to point it out, and then, you know, squish it. but as i got older, i realized that these bugs, little moths, little white house spiders; they're just lonely insignificant creatures, trapped on the wrong side of the screen door. and they beat their little heads against the window panes trying to escape, but just can't comprehend how small and fleeting they are, how weak. i wonder, if maybe, they do know, and they don't care. life for these little bugs is short, sand in an hourglass running, running, running; they're powerless, chewing holes through old coats in the backs of closets to pass the time. create, learn, retain, recreate, die—over, and over again. if everyone lived the way they do, everything would move so slowly. time wouldn't go so fast. maybe, that's why they do it.

                    i pass a moth on the wall in my hallway today. i let it sit. 

8 4 hyperion* hyperion*
questionmarks
And it was beautiful but terrifying; a work of art, like the gentle slope of Abel's ribs. Or the concave of a man accepting Death's embrace. It felt soft like Pysche's revival, or perhaps the folds of Dornröschen's dress. Thick with triumph, it held such similarity to that of Perseus, Medusa's severed head held high above his own. But most of all, it held a supreme discomfort, the kind that can only be felt by the unwilling participants of Imponderabilia, desperately trying to avoid the face of something born to be embraced.

10 1 *nerium* *nerium*
story
I sent you lilies,
now I want back those flowers
7 0 *nerium* *nerium*
lyrics
it always shocks me when i realize the people i love are human too and that they make mistakes and have flaws and are allowed to be selfish sometimes. 
13 0 rec0ver rec0ver
love