her loud ass is always screaming 🙄🙄
Life is so boring rn and my poems are not slaying so I might start writing fanfiction.
"you are in his dm's, I am in his poems" we are not same bro.
Anastasia Trusova, “And the sunset came” Acrylic on canvas / 60 x 80 cm / 2022
After all this time, I am still stuck.
I am still listening to your stupid playlistÂ
with your stupid songs
that only remind me of how stupid i was.
I can’t really remember why I used to think that caring for you was smart.
Was it because you were?
You answered every question,
but you couldn't describe why you wanted me.
Because you never did. Â
When I close my eyes to look for sleep’s touch, I think of you.
I think of how our fingertips brushed
How much it meant to me, how little it meant to you.Â
I hear your breath laughing in my ear at some joke I didn’t say,
but I wish I did.Â
I remember all of the time we spend together,
even if you don’t.Â
I can still see all of the little notes you left on my desk
which I wish I kept not just in my heart, but in my hand as well.Â
It is all so comforting, as I drift away. Â
Just to know you are in my life.Â
Even if you are not mine.Â
what if we got lost in the woods & performed dark rituals & engaged in homoerotic acts of cannibalism to survive the frozen winter (and also we were girls)
I am filled with so much jealousy for other’s art, I am unable to enjoy my own.
Art is not my friend right now.
I can’t come up with anything new. I miss the days where this wasn’t a chore. We aren’t friends right now because I want my art to be something it is not.
Art is not my friend right now. I can’t make my hands create what is in my head.
Art is not my friend right now.
But all I want is for our friendship to return. It may be selfish, I want her to bring me joy. She might be the only one that can. I want to bring her to life, so we can walk hand in hand amongst creation.
Art will be my friend again soon.