i am completely fine cleaning up my own mess.
”how did you fall in love with him?”
“a hundred days of longing.”
why am i judged for wanting a husband? i don’t want to settle and have ten children, i just want someone who loves every bump, curve, and blemish of me.
he loves me, he loves me not. he loves me, he loves me not. he loves me, he loves me not. he loves me, he loves me not. he loves me, he loves me not. he loves me, he loves me not. he loves me, he loves me not. he loves me, he loves me not. he loves me, he loves me not. he loves me, he loves me not. he loves me, he loves me not.
everything is green again. like the earth is taking its first deep breath since the winter.
i’ve always been told
that 3am is some haunted hour
where your subconscious thoughts
claw their way into reality
but 4am is the true evil
it’s the unbearable silence
when the monsters in my head
stand at the edges of my vision
to watch me toss and turn
i will die trying to prove my critics wrong.
the taste of tragedy is so fresh on my tongue. i believe the aftertaste shall linger forever.
i feel safe and soft in your arms.
i’d never been in a room so tense. then everyone came back broken.
i wonder if you know that i could talk to you for hours about the most meaningless things, and it would still be the experience of a lifetime.