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@lonliestloserontheloose
It's the part that I don't even wish for them to be as lonely as I am, nor that I forbid them to have friends. I just wish that their treatment to me stayed the same. That no matter how many people the world threw at them, no one could've—would've ever outweighed my value to their lives.
OLIVIA RODRIGO AT THE CHLOÉ FALL/WINTER '26/'27 SHOW DURING PARIS FASHION WEEK ↳ celeb/smut rps & p*rn blogs do not interact
I've got it. The things I wanted. The things I yearned for. The things I was so anxious about. I've got it now, but why do I feel so unfulfilled.
having adhd is so fun it’s like i’m just living my life and i can’t even tell time
Sylvia Plath
I'm in so much pain. How do I ask for help?
poems to read while having breakfast at the heartbreak hotel
I know I am but summer to your heart (Sonnet XXVII) by Edna St. Vincent Millay
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why (Sonnet XLIII) by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Time does not bring relief (Sonnet II) by Edna St. Vincent Millay
I Am Not Yours by Sara Teasdale
[you fit into me] by Margaret Atwood
You by Carol Ann Duffy
Be Near Me by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Blessed be the spectacle by Lev St. Valentine
You Are Tired (I Think) by E.E. Cummings
Hope you're well. Please don't read this by Lev St. Valentine
To Say Dark Things by Ingeborg Bachmann
Lilichka by Vladimir Mayakovski
Love and Hate by Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal
Sanctuary by Jean Valentine
the winter sun says fight by Peter Gizzi
The More Loving One by W. H. Auden
A Primer For The Small Weird Loves by Richard Siken
Dirty Valentine by Richard Siken
Morning by Frank O Hara
We Don't Know How To Say Goodbye by Anna Akhmatova
You'll Live, But I'll Not… by Anna Akhmatova
from “An Attempt at Jealousy” by Marina Tsvetaeva
The Last Toast by Anna Akhmatova
In Dream by Anna Akhmatova
Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath
Talking In Bed by Philip Larkin
He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven by W.B. Yeats
La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats
“And that’s the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too.”
— Khaled Hosseini
I now only have a couple of people I trust (partially). It's sad, but I take pride in knowing that at least I've got a couple of real ones.
I'm someone incapable of not giving a fuck
Why can't I just focus on myself? Why do I always have to look at them and compare my whole identity with theirs?
If one would split me in half and cut me open, inside me must lies the darkest, most rotten place on earth
Anaïs Nin, in a diary entry dated 27 February 1929, featured in The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin: Vol. IV, 1927-1931
Mary Oliver, March
