I’ve been reading the chicken-scratch,
Found on the snowflake tissue paper,
I pulled from between my ribs last night,
There are metaphors for this soft building,
Full of anxious and afraid tenants,
'Please,' and 'don't' are decipherable,
But little else can be read for the holes,
[This is a great disappointment,
I’d been searching for notation,
Because for all our sakes, I need to know,
Why my heart-beat sings the same song,
As that of receding footsteps.]
Got good at drawing my own hair.
It’s not something I want anymore,
But I could, I could, I could,It’s nothing something I do anymore, But I could, I could, I really could, I swear,It’s not something that’s good for me, I don’t care, I do not care, I don’t,It would disappoint everyone, But isn’t that what I usually do? It is not good, it is not okay, Maybe I’ll do it anyway.
i love you
Welcome to Night Vale? Welcome to my gross sobbing.
1.) To take an hour long bubble bath.
2.) To eat more than two meals today.
3.) To make a purchase for myself.
4.) To put off my homework ‘til tomorrow.
5.) To let myself be happy.
There’s newness to me,
A new appreciation,
For my own body,
I love these arms, now,
For having held you so close,
Keeping you so warm,
And I love my neck,
Because it knows the caress,
Of your gentle lips.
I am more than a body of bones,
With too much meat on them,
I am more than a skull, thick with ignorance,
With not enough on the inside of it,
I am more than scarred-up, clumsy limbs,
That break everything they stumble into,
(Injure everyone they touch),
I am more than this,
I will repeat that until it’s true.
What an incredibly sweet question- thank you very much.
My only tip is to practice. Write write write. Even if it’s notsogood at first. Keep writing. Write all the time. On your pillowcase and on your napkin and on your skin and on your friends’ skin and on your maths test and on your walls and on your favourite copy of your favourite book and in places no one can see and in places that everyone can see. Just write. A lot. And feel. A lot.
Library was giving away ALL of the Calvin and Hobbes (and I snagged some Vonnegut but eh)
Thanks very much.
Thank you, really.
Thank you very much for the compliments.
And yet also- no, thank you.
My current wave of sadness doesn’t have anything to do with ‘the right person,’ but everything to do with myself. I know your intention was good, but it’s honestly bumming me out that people (you’re not the first, nor will you be the last) keep assuming that I just need another person to make me whole. I feel l need to say something about this. I will make myself whole. Maybe I can’t do that right now, but one day I will. (Or maybe I won’t, but I will keep trying.)
There are plenty of people who love me, and probably plenty of people who ‘see the beauty in me,’ but that doesn’t change how I view myself. It never will. I have to do that.
Again, thank you for your kindness.
I appreciate the thought.
splitzko said: *sings* YOU’RE SO BLU-U-UE BLU-U-UE BLU-U-UE YOU’RE SO BLUE I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DOOO
Even my dog is a melan-collie.
I’m a blueberry.