Melancholic girly

[abitmorewhimsical]

I prayed hard enough 

I prayed hard enough  And you’re still not mine I wrote down every wish  Then lit it on fire 

So pardon me  If I lose my faith  But for you any longer I can't wait

Maybe love isn’t found In burning altars or holy words Maybe faith’s not a prayer But the strength to let go

To love without begging To want and still say no

So if you ever decide You’ll find me whole No longer waiting My heart still soft But no longer breaking

And you’re still not mine

[abitmorewhimsical]

You can find me in the summer rain

if you don't try to hide

nor run away

I'm hiding in the shadows of peach orchards

slow dancing to alt female artist

whom you don't know

and you feel my kisses

when the sun rays touch your skin

and they kiss you with their warm lips

ocean waves hit your body

and the waves of longing hit your soul -

how did I get away, your summer storm

but I never fully left,

I'm to be found everywhere

and nowhere all at once

because everything you see

reminds you of me

but I cannot be touched

and you couldn't change the ways of your life

so every scorching hot summer day

you feel cold

and in the evenings

when the fun starts

you feel as lonely as ever -

how could you let a woman like me run away

[abitmorewhimsical]

Sweet baby, vanilla cherry,

I want to see us intertwined.

I imagine lying in your arms,

wearing nothing but a smile.

Will you do me this one favour?

Take me home—chez toi.

Please don't make it complicated;

I don't expect anything from you.

Let's get naked, drink some wine,

help me find some peace of mind.

No strings, no knots—

only us tangled in sheets.

Your deep eyes analyze my gaze

while I sip my drink at the Paris bar.

The words I speak

are already written in my eyes.

[abitmorewhimsical]

"Plastic surgery is rooted in patriarchy,"

I said

to a table full of sisters

bragging about filled lips

and broken noses.

The conversation quieted.

I wished each of them

could see themselves

through my eyes:

original,

beautiful,

strong.

No need to bend into new shapes

to please the eye of a man.

No need to climb

a never-ending ladder

of expectations

for how a woman should look.

Across from me

sat a woman

with the face of an angel,

long blonde hair,

eyes the deepest shade of blue.

With quiet skepticism she said,

"I want to buy a new nose

to look more feminine."

But it's a female nose

on a female face.

How can a nose

become more feminine

than that?

The little bump

along its bridge

is your inheritance,

carried from your grandmother

to your mother,

to you.

Perhaps one day

your daughter

will carry it too.

No amount of surgery

can erase

the history

written in your bones.

[abitmorewhimsical]

I hate being empathetic

I know it’s not her it’s me

and I can see why you would date her

but dear god I fucking hate her

Now you’re mine and I can’t let go

retroactive jealousy,

moments when you’re not with me

I turn on dnd

FBI’s got nothing on me

Why do I know where she lives

and what her mums last name used to be

I know I know I’ll drive myself crazy

but I can’t let go

and my mind is taking me to places

back in time when you’re not mine

retroactive jealousy.

[abitmorewhimsical]

I texted you:

I had a dream.

In it,

you took me out to eat.

So unlike you

to reply to girls you don't follow.

But then again,

you couldn't turn me down.

You saw the law degree,

the poetry,

the reposts

about human rights

and feminists.

By the end of the night,

you knew this was

going somewhere.

And somewhere

between the first bite

and that nights goodbye,

I knew.

You would be

the greatest love

of my life,

or the heartbreak

I'd measure all the others by.

[abitmorewhimsical]

If we were to have a child,

I'd call her Daisy—

like the nickname you used for me,

and the flowers you'd pick in the meadows

where we lay carefree in the grass.

I reminisce about the time

when we thought love alone was enough

to make it last.

Now, as I sit alone, shivering in the cold,

I miss the sun upon my skin,

the scent of the gentle breeze,

and most of all,

your arms around me.

Maybe what we had was enough.

Maybe it wasn't so bad.

Maybe we can still

glue the broken pieces back.

[abitmorewhimsical]

Sometimes I get so in my head,

I imagine things that aren't there—

doubts that whisper,

asking if I'm the one,

catching glimpses of a wandering eye.

You never gave me a reason

to second-guess your loyalty,

yet I keep creating scenarios

that question your character.

You did everything right.

Still, I cannot stop,

and it kills me inside.

In your eyes,

I'm nothing less than perfect.

You make all my wishes come true.

I love you.

I trust you.

So why does my mind betray me?

[abitmorewhimsical]

You're missing from me—

tu me manques,

quite literally.

The air I breathe

doesn’t feel the same

when I can’t feel you near.

There are so many people around,

and yet my focus rests only

on who is not with me.

How can I feel sorrow

for something that isn’t there-

a negative space?

I notice how colors fade

when you are not there to see them.

The world turns muted

after I have known it saturated.

Even my laughter dries,

it sounds fuller, brighter

when it’s meant for your ears.

I keep thinking

how much richer life would be

if your hand were in mine,

if we could feel it all

together.

[abitmorewhimsical]

I know pain,

I’m used to greeting it

like an old friend.

Many things that happened

weren’t things I deserved.

I had to make peace with the idea—

that sometimes life is unjust.

Sometimes the kindest people

carry the worst of it,

and sometimes the worst person you’ll ever meet

wins the main prize—

the lottery.

All the pain I’ve been through

made me softer,

more gentle—

in the way I speak my mind

and care for you.

Each of us has a choice:

to drown or to move,

to promise never to hurt someone

the way we were hurt.

Pain makes you grow,

it teaches you

to notice the small joys.

It cost me a lot to be this gentle—

a lot of violence

to become this soft

[abitmorewhimsical]

You cannot lose

what was never yours.

I cannot steal him—

he was never yours.

Maybe he lived

in your late-night thoughts,

but that means nothing—

his heart sleeps in my home.

You thought we were racing.

I was walking backwards—

and still,

I’m the girl he calls

when the night caves in,

the only one

who can make him cry.

I’m a girl’s girl—

just not for the girl

who wants my man.

Wanting what isn’t yours

breaks every code you claim.

Find your worth.

Find someone

who chooses you.

His hands are calloused

from building me a home,

from carving altars in my name—

worshipping

the god he found in me.

[butterflypeaflowertea]

ever since i was a little girl i knew i was doomed to take things too seriously and think about them forever

[abitmorewhimsical]

Suddenly, all the pretty love songs

were about you, my dear.

Strange—

until now, I never believed

in a love deep enough to make you sing.

A love that inspires,

that lingers in every note,

because art hits harder

when it carries feeling.

It’s three in the morning

and I sing sweet.

It’s a sunny day

and still I sing.

My love doesn’t fade

with the daylight.

I would never question

who you are in the dark.

I feel like a teenager

confessing all of this,

finally understanding

what it means to love without condition.

It comes with trust—

that you won’t hurt me,

and I won’t hurt you.

In the end, it’s the one

who brings you peace,

the one you don’t mind

spending a whole day with

doing nothing at all.

So for you, I’ll always sing.

Even if I lose my voice,

my heart will carry melodies

meant only for you.

[abitmorewhimsical]

Include me—be mindful of me

in the plans you make, in the choices you choose.

I will bend for you…

will you bend for me too?

When you’re deciding,

I want to live at the front of your mind

the way you live in mine.

I would never choose to hurt you,

never choose to lose you—

so can you hold back

from the things that make me pull away,

that turn me distant, cold?

I run at the first hint of pain—

not because I don’t care,

but because I’ve already felt too much of it.

So think of me

the way I think of you.

Please—

just be considerate.

[abitmorewhimsical]

I’m so tired of the fact

that everyone wants to be casual.

What happened to deep,

soul-crushing romance—

the kind with the power

to light the world on fire?

I can’t do casual.

I’ll consume you whole,

or I won’t consume at all.

I’d rather be starving

than have half-hearted love.

It takes so much energy

to always wonder

if what I say will be too much

or not enough—

never knowing where I stand,

always crossing lines

I didn’t know were set.

I’m a full-package woman.

I cook, I clean, I fuck,

I’m pretty and kind,

and I’m really, really smart.

And you will never know me,

not really

while your eyes wander

over imagined greener fields.

Without committing,

you’ll never see

all the wonders I can show.

[abitmorewhimsical]

This t-shirt is cursed, forever smelling like you. I washed it four times, still I can’t undo the memories we made that winter on the beach.

When I wear it, I carry the ghost of you with me. It takes me back to that place in Europe where it’s 20 degrees in January and the waves kiss my feet.

The first and last place where you took the time to know me, to hold me.

We made love every night, you kissed my hair while I slept, like I was yours to keep.

Now I patiently wait for a text back that will never come. You moved on fast— I’m still undone.

This t-shirt is all that I have left, so I wear it like a warning to myself— not to fall for pretty words and a gentle touch, not to confuse simple lust with something like love.

[abitmorewhimsical]

Apple

I bit into the apple you offered 

knowing better, 

but wanting you more than I trusted myself. 

I tasted every consequence 

the moment I said yes. 

You wanted intimacy 

without responsibility, 

sex without commitment.  

My body,

without my soul.

You made sure I needed you more 

than you ever needed me. 

And when it was over, 

the blame sat quietly in my hands 

like I should have known 

not to trust someone 

who knew exactly how to lie. 

Eve too let the devil lead her 

to bite into the apple, 

and suffered for listening 

when she knew better. 

And the man placed the blame 

like it was hers to carry 

as if the sin was to trust 

and not the lie.