#imdonebeingsad

[personaidentitycrisis-blog]

I let myself drown too much in words. It was the wisest choice, but it was the most painful one; for I would always fantasize about promises that authors gave me, that books led me to believe, that poetry made me feel— all but a beautiful reality that doesn't exist in me yet. All was history, their history. #imdonebeingsad #jkimnot #watchoutformore #rip (at somewhere only we go)

[poetrygh0st]

Cold air in November

I think about

A flower box

With its colors that pop

In that tiny brown box

It reminds me of us

When we were just seeds

And love came to plant us

And joy came to water us

We picked weeds

Of jealosy

And deciet

As problems kept falling on us

Like bugs and weather

We still grew

So slow so steady

It seemed never ending.

We bloomed and shined

In the midday sun

Others stood in awe of us

As winter approached

We wilted away

As seasons are

apart of life

When i walk away

I still see the flower box

And a ghost

Of those beautiful flowers

That used to grace my eyes

[pizzaprincessbutt-blog]

I'm happy I'm happy I'm happy