⋆˚࿔ 𝑮𝒊𝒏𝒂𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𝒊𝒎 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆🦢 𝟏𝟖 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍?

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the way the smell of cigs lingers on my fingertips is the same way memories linger in my mind

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i love spring i feel like im blooming again🌷☀️

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The most poetic thing about humans is the quiet way they choose kindness.

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i love girl friendships they’re so wow, cool, niche like YEAH a girl can get me better than a man could ever.

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i love this quote with a passion💗

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Guys is it just me or every time i try to write something poetic i end up just staring at the blank paper like the moment i open my journal everything from my head disappears.

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how that one memory with him feels

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how i feel when someone yells at me

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I was the poetry you fell for, but you lied and said you knew how to read.

I was the poetry you fell for,

But you never took your time and curiosity to discover my soul.

I thought you loved me, but you only loved the surface,

You only loved what the eyes could see.

The desire to get to know me,

Was all a lie that i used to believe.

I filled your time with passion and emotions, but you were thinking about distance and obsession.

I never knew how to make an unforgettable first impression,

But my dear, you only saw me as your possession.

I was behind the lies, hiding from your eyes.

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The lie I keep telling.

“I have time” I say as I learn how to read, with four years of feeling alive fading behind me.

“I have time” I say as I reach for a ciggarette, lying to everyone, including my soul, that I will quit smoking.

“I have time” I say as i procrastinate instead of living my life and choosing comfort over curiosity.

“I have time” I say as I’m lying to my soul about death and how it affected me.

“I have time” I say as I see people around me die and I hide the distruction this topic leaves in my soul.

Every time I lie, my soul takes it serious, my childhood is gone and the memories are lost in pages.

I write about melancholy and past, but did I ever live?

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Be the things you loved most about the people that are gone.

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i was the poetry you fell for, but you lied and said that you knew how to read.