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🌠

One million wishes

@alaiyo

Mar 23, 2024

💌

THE FEELING THAT GOOD THINGS ARE COMING YOUR WAY

I can feel it in my stomach and it’s giving me butterflies!

@yunggrandma99

1d ago

🌻

TWO-HEADED ZINNIA

This is good luck because I want it to be

@jmeridian

Apr 28, 2025

Top Recs from @rain-soup

🧸

THIS PAINTING I FOUND ON PINTEREST

because i’ve been trying to be more intentional with my time and it made me feel something so i sat with the feeling for awhile before opening my notes app: I see bears playing pool in the window on my lap in some faintly-brushed dimension whose green felt I’ll never touch. There’s an echo of a lyric in my head (“you don’t have to leave, you could just stay here with me”) that somehow stretches past the incidentals of whether the words are true in fact & makes them true, somehow, a hand pushing through some clotted veil to let the light of all those days ago pass through, when I thought all I had to do was have the right argument. prove a God to someone who left Him long ago. now it’s a light in my chest, this thing I argued for, and a hint of a cicada (just its shell) on a tree, & sometimes I am clawing through the dirt with all my friends who can’t see that their fingernails have not been clean in so so long. For all our digging we can’t stop looking at the stars; for all our looking at the stars, we can’t stop the linoleum lights flickering above the pool table, for all the chapped lips and fraying eyeliner and all our tiny scars we skip where we can and push our way through the rest.

@rain-soup

18h ago

🍃

A MOMENT IN THE WOODS THE OTHER DAY

a couple months ago I'm out behind the gabled house with dregs of home still seeping through its edges, a sharp sort of newness ripping the seams of who I am & who I was, sweaty fingers slipping from between each other with the bloodied grasp of desperation - it is a spring day, and I am here again. the leaves are new and the blinking infant furled in the strands of my chest takes a breath and every time I trudge through these vine-ridden woods I feel her grubby hands trace the creases in my ribcage. there are ghosts here, the soulmate-friend across the ocean and I and the way we'd take axes to the already-fallen trees like our anger was spraying away with the bark and we were left with only breeze. there are the phantoms of our hands stuck in the mud, ripped leaves beneath our fingernails as we unclogged the flow of the creek and watched the water dig its trenches deeper, and now i'm watching it capture the light of a new year in my hometown alone. through the leaves and over the tinny chorus of water-on-rock I hear the echoes of a mother calling to her children in a game of hide-and-seek, her children laughing, the clamor of it like a memory captured on tape and played back. there is a hole here, radio waves rippling through years folded back and punched through, I a bystander to the reminiscence of a stranger years down the line when some part of that laughter will be lost. it is here. it is here now, in the backyard of a house I sometimes call home.

@rain-soup

18h ago