somehow his talks about all the cravings i have had or will have...but mostly it talks about how i crave for the touch that i can never have the way i used to.
“You still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn’t satisfy you as much as it used to. You still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago.”
— Alida Nugent
Looking for some one who would help me commit crime brulees
so hot🥵
it starts by listening to the same playlist on repeat,
its Finneas, Dean Lewis, Banners, followed by Benjamin, Grey
and a touch of sugar, spice and everything that peirce my heart.
I find myself wondering if the poems say it out loud
or the songs add the missing harmony
sometimes I find it in lines traced on old yellow pages
and at others in the random flowers pressed between…
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Snape: Miss Granger, pay attention or serve detention.
Hermione: Make me.
.
.
Draco: (in a distance) like one of my french girls.
Hermione: What
Draco: What
Snape: What
Hogwarts: What
So, what do I do on my free days?
I wake up late, search for a cup of coffee,
Make myself a plate easy breakfast and then
It’s a day of selfcare.
I think of the books to read and shows to watch
I lay down on the grass and look at the sky.
I paint my nails and I curl my hair
Then bunch them and use a ribbon to tie.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and I can see
See a void but then it disappears
Then I think of having some tea
So, I put the pan up and sit on the chair
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting
The water boils over
I feel all drunk
Even when I am sober
I am sitting and sitting and sitting
I can see the sun rise and set and rise and set
The clock tics toks tics toks tics toks and tics
And I lie on my bed and lie to my self
The void in me is rising and burning and singing
The void is hungry so, its eating
Eating me and the soul and the light
Selfcare maybe is lying in bed
Feel a little dead
But I just stay and stay and stay
Then there is the night and then the day
And then something clicks
I thinks the void is full, it had its share
It is going back in and there is this light
This light, a crack on the wall
I find myself standing tall
I look at the clock oh its been just four hours
But then my cell phone beeps
‘hey there you’ve been missing from the outside world for a week’
My eyes readjust, my mouth is dry
I reach for water, there is a pan with burnt tea leaves
There is a cup of coffee half drunk
I look into the mirror, there is ribbon tangled in my hair
Well I guess this is the end of a day of selfcare
and believe me, I can feel it in the air
I am falling again.
To hate and not hate my Father
Let’s be clear my dad and my Father are two different people, two souls in one flesh and yet so differently similar. My dad laughs at the most childish of jokes. My father hasn’t smiled at me in ages. my dad has cried in front of me and is open to care. My Father goes through days with a stoic line on his face. My Dad has names for me that show his love, overflowing. My Father calls my…
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THE END OF THE DECADE.
The 2010’s are ending in six hours… the thing is that I have been contemplating about writing this article for like 10 hours, or ten days, a month. End of the decade it is and we can do nothing about it. The funny thing is that past ten years have been life changing for everyone because we all grew up, some of us started the decade as 18 year olds , some stared the decade as 10 year olds, some of…
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the last letter
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shrimpboys. crabgirls. is that anything
Nathaniel Orion G. K., March 2022
This how English major torture people.
I’m going to make a new font called Times New Bastard
Just a girl who is going through anxiety and awkwardness. Walking on the roads of life, learning lessons, writing poetry, living stories, capturing moments and making weird, bad, and pathetic puns.
31 posts