There Isn't Any Scent In This World As Comforting As The Scent Of A Mother's Duppata.

they should make an august for grieving and being blue all the time and an august for.. well. enjoying the summer and living your life. and they should be in the same year

you asked me what i ate today and i cough so hard pieces of my spine are thrown from my mouth. i taste blood every time you look at me like i'm something worth dying for. when i was twelve i broke my wrist. it never healed right so now every time you try to hold my hand my bones ache.

my mom says i remind her of her mom and that sometimes it's hard to look at me. it is spring and i hope the hummingbirds can't see into this house.

there are boys that claimed my body felt like home to them. i will never understand this because my hands still shake every time i place them around my neck asking myself how much longer until the thought of peace doesn't make me choke to death.

how can i be this tender and still bite my tongue so hard until everything i never said rots my teeth? i'd let my anger burn this city to the ground before letting anyone hear me say how sorry i am for everything i am not.

-unknown

they should invent a yearning for love that is tolerable btw

MUTUAL AID

I'm doing all I can to escape my abusive home, because my mental and physical health has been at an all time low since December. If my work has ever meant anything to you, please consider donating to a disabled trans queer Bengali butch, if you are able to. I don't really want to talk about my personal life right now, because I'm sick of talking about it honestly and it's been horrific since 2023, but I would like a bit of help very much now, instead of just my shitposts and moodboards blowing up.

my trans poetry book collection

my trans sapphic Bengali story from ko-fi

If Indians have problem with Payp*l, you can donate on gpay: sritamasen1905@oksbi

please stop living so far away i want to cook your favourite dinner for you

tumblr's boop feature got me feeling butterflies and seeing hearts

With the war behind us, the focus is now on removing the rubble and rebuilding a home where the family can come together again. Your assistance and encouragement are invaluable. Thank you for standing with us!

please don't, really, it was our duty to do this, I'm glad our efforts meant something

Helen of Troy (detail) c. 1867. by Frederick Sandys

i am my father's daughter, of course i'm gonna suppress my rage and grief till it bursts and leaves everyone with my ashes

i either find psychedelics or God now