i want to be angry to curse this dirt to curse these feelings running through my blood but how can i be angry when all i’ve been left with is the certainty of being rejected
they told me it was vodka
but it tasted a lot like glitter
am I enough now?
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am i a fool or just a coward
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i would call you my starry-eyed dreamer, but the stars are not confined to your eyes; they are floating in your voice and dancing on your skin and glittering in your hair, surrounding you with celestial warmth
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still finding drops of your blood long dried on my floorboards and strands of your hair in my bedsheets
I feel like since I'm not in love anymore, I've nothing to write about. And I'm sad that it seemed like my creative work is based on being in love. How can I progress in writing about something else?
Try writing about little things you see, like your surroundings. Im not talking about full on sonnets, just a few sentences, take it slow.
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to do: be completely comfortable in my own skin. for me
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to do: gather a tight circle of loyal, amazing friends
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ifyou-suggestions
If you ever feel like you’re alone darling, i’m here.
young girl, take your heart, and wear it upon your sleeve. sit safe in laurels
Lonely after dark isn’t this familiar, laying in my bed just wishing I was happier.
i was never one to be remembered, why’d i think that it’d change now
im a drug; addictive , killing you from the inside
i am broken and shattered and im just trying to put my pieces back together but they’re now too sharp and i can hurt anybody who tries to touch me
maybe i was the problem all along
I avert my eyes when I see you now.