i chase the light

of the green meadows, silly little shitty writer https://www.tumblr.com/rae-xoxo https://substack.com/@lunaslatte

[anxeious]

[luna-latte]

in order to want to live, you have to want to die first.

[luna-latte]

haunt me

i want words to come to me

i dont want to look for them

i always lose my mind going that way

i want them to come to me instead

like some kind of magnet

like some type of jigsaw pieces

like they have always belonged to me

i want them to haunt me

in the shower, in the kitchen

that i could not even sleep

i want them to show up

i want them stuck in my brain

i dont want to come up with them

its always hard

writing is hard

if theres a way

if words have will

i hope its them instead, haunting me

[luna-latte]

i want to write things that would make people go like ‘girl are you sure this isnt supposed to be tagged under to be edited in ur drafts??’

[luna-latte]

the short ends of sticks

the first time i felt deep feelings for a person was when i was 20.

i met him on the day i turned 20. 

i was attracted to him, with the way he speaks, and the way he looks.

and i liked the way he looks at me.

always looking down, at the side of his eyes, but our eyes met just fine and during those moments, i felt mesmerized. 

after our first encounter, i didnt see him for quite sometime

until we ran to each other again, and he looked at me the same way.

looking down, at the side of his eyes. 

he kept walking while glancing at me

i stopped there standing, staring while he did that

im not really sure what happened 

but i can still remember what i was thinking 

‘i like the way he looks at me, and i like him just the same.’

maybe it was that moment, or maybe it was after that

but like i said

thinking about it now, im not really sure what happened

i saw him from time to time 

i steal a glance

i search for him

until one day, he looked back

and he doesnt look down anymore

instead he looked up at me

and every time im around he would look up

as i walk

as i pace

as i listened

as i speak

he will look up

or so i thought

but i swear our eyes would meet

not even the side of his eyes

it was both his eyes on mine

and i would meet his look

as i walk

as i pace

as i listened

as i speak

id like to say it was not in my head

because i swear it wasnt

it was all real

when he chooses the place next to mine

or when he runs wherever im at

it wasnt in my head

and when he got close to me 

far more than what i imagined

when our hand shakes

and in my head i was screaming

‘what the fuck was that?’

‘did i just held his hand?’

‘DID HE JUST HELD MINE??’

i swear it wasnt just because

he wouldnt do that with anyone else

or maybe it was just because

he knew me first 

and he remembered

hence, all the looks

all the places next to me

and all the running he did

because now i have to make excuses 

for all the time i swear it wasnt in my head

it wasnt

it wasnt just because

he had reasons

all the reasons far from mine

maybe i was stupid 

or maybe im just infatuated

i really thought it wasnt in my head

but i always knew there was a chance

whatever it is, i crushed myself in the end

because when it comes to having things i want

i always get the short end of stick

[luna-latte]

i think its very zesty of me to keep on living

[luna-latte]

i got years worth of unlearning to do

[luna-latte]

the beauty in my days

i love my days. when its brutal, when its peace. when its pain and its bliss. i love my rainy days as much as i do on my sunny days. i love the days i spend at home writing reviews, binge watching, designing journal. i love the days i spend outside, on different eatery, different people, different foods. i love it when i fall because then, i can get up. i love it when im ruined because i get to fix me. i learned to love it during the wars in my head on my teenage years. it was bloody, it was hell, it was cruel, and it was wicked. but sometimes i think its fate. on the toughest days of my life, i learned to love. and from the depths of the most gruesome well, i learned to still pull the water and when a glimpse of my mirror appears, i will always reach. because i know as long as i can see my reflection on it, i will not lose myself. and when it gets tough, i didnt even looked back. i chose to write a poem instead.

https://pin.it/7Bmb7rfEF

[luna-latte]

to be heard

i hate going to coffee shops near me. i hate that when its time to go, i have to head straight home. i hate that every time i step a foot at home, all the magic is gone. the hyperfocus on whatever im writing, the fixation on my keyboard. when the whole world fades and its just me and my ipad. the high of creating something, it doesnt even have to be a meaningful one, it just has to be from me. when i get to actually talk. uninterrupted, unjudged. its different and mystical. the kind of high that requires no consequences.

but the moment i step at home, its gone in a snap. i get to be.. silent. like i lost my voice. a constant reminder of why im never used to talking. i loathe to speak, to utter even a single word. the words are always lost in my throat. ever since they shut me out, i learned to be silent. like i dont have a tongue at all. i didnt get used to speaking. i wouldnt blame myself, who would be. all my life, it seems like im not worth hearing at all. but at least i learned how to write.

https://pin.it/6hjLnBdVz

https://pin.it/6jCBP7hNv

https://pin.it/3itqSs1ZR

[izzy444angel]