#also midterms

[luxhesperus]

He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

- Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights

[isabella-d-b]

10.24.17

I keep trying to write poems but they come out like lists. Lists of things I should be doing instead of writing have to take on need to shed from the papertrail stack of skins I create every night in piles.

I feel like I’m losing it. By it I mean the freedom of                             everywhere

               words                          page                 goddamn                                    on the 

They must be neat. I must be perfect.

             What if I crack?              What if I error bottom out, lists and lines overtaking my brain until I             glaze into sliced thin perfect packages?

Where is the poetry in all these paper lists?                                                                                      Is it (am I) still                                                                                      out there?

[fluorescent-star-stickers]

Sorry I haven't had time to write I've been too busy thinking about writing.

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

current mood is surviving and vibing on three hours of sleep and a bottle of root beer

[grailcrest-a]

life will allow me back here! ..someday

[prince-bat]

ah yes we've hit that point in the semester where none of my clothes match and are all baggy, i wear a hat so i dont have to deal with hair, and my eyebags are so designer it's criminal

[laminariales]

Im 10 away from 300 followers omg

[alwaaysalreaady]

and i drank til i couldn’t see straight anymore, until there was nothing to drink to