#batman#dc#dc comics#bruce wayne#dick grayson#tim drake#batfam#dc fanart#batfamily
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Making time for rest…
Creating space for nothing…
Gloriously still…
What did you do to the girl?
When do they let you grow up?
How many unblown candles turning
to wax does it take?
When do they stop telling
you to change the way you are?
or hiding your the clothes
they hate to see you wear?
when does it stop
the glares of a father
every time you step
out of the house?
when do the whispers stop?
when do the sirens stop blaring?
when does a mother
stop trying
to turn her
daughter into herself?
how many girlhoods
does it cost?
How many wasted barbie dolls
and how many
wasted make up kits
does it take for a mother
to realise that her
daughter hates her?
when do they laughing at you for
loving something they don’t?
when do they stop killing
the girl who loves pink?
how many teenage
dreams need to shatter
for a girl to finally be good enough?
how many girls need to die
to make a good daughter?
when does it stop,
the house not feeling like a home?
when does it end
the urge to run away from it all?
when does it stop
trying to be the daughter who will
never be good enough
the sister too small to fill up
the hand me down shoes?
when does she stop feeling
like she’s standing naked
in front of
a crowd that hates her every
time she wants to speak what’s
on her mind?
when will the world stop
putting her on a pedestal
to make the world out of her reach?
when will the silence end?
when will she grow up?
why won’t you let her grow up?
why won’t you stop holding her back
because you refuse to let go of what was?
where is the girl gone?
what did you do of the woman she was supposed to be?
where has she gone?
what did you do to her?
will she ever come back?
where is her grave?
is that what you wanted?
H E A D [RT] A C H E
Waking up with one hell of a headache, A furious animal caged in the walls of my skull.
Can you check if there are any worms Of memory dwelling inside my head? I think there’s something unclean. Would a bitter little pill Bring them all to a hush? A painkiller and a glass of cold water, This pain should stop When the animal accepts imprisonment. A cigarette and a plastic blue lighter, Memories will hush When there will be nothing to lose.
I hurts me to picture you With somebody else. That now it’s somebody else Bringing you home when you’re drunk And listening to all of your secrets In the kitchen at night, When your voice becomes huskier And you’d confess just about anything. Smeared papier mache’ smiles painted red, Lipstick, wine, or broken hearts’ blood? We smoked a whole cigarette pack in two, Fingers intertwined, How could somebody stop loving you? I hate the playground that knew The touch of our hands drenched in dust. I also hate every scent in the perfume That you wore, I hate it so much that I went to the store And bought a bottle of the exact same perfume Just to have it all for myself. To keep you, Keep you as a picture in my wallet, A picture I’d show to a fellow bus rider, And say that this is the reason I’m coming home for.
Life would be worth it because We’d have each other in it. Two old ladies in love, Holding hands in rocking chairs And facing the sunset With our adorable cats. Card games and cigarettes, And it wouldn’t matter how long We’ve got left to live As long as Death gets us together.
Waking up with one hell of a headache. Romance exists just to destroy romance, Because reality could never be so sweet. Lovers meet and villains are defeated, but Who is there to defeat when the villains Are looking back at us from the mirror?
Waking up with one hell of a headache. I need a pill to wash away the stains Of life where everything seemed possible, If only we reversed the tides of time.
Starting New Book!
Hey Guys, Adrian here! Tomorrow is August 1st, and I plan to start writing my second book!
Comment down below what kinds of books you are interested in reading in, and maybe we can cook a fusion of different genres!
I’ll keep everyone updated!
Blessings and Love!
Adrian
I find it so very unfair that I was born into a world where fear infiltrates my every movement. Where I am bombarded with images of 'beauty', none of which I conform to. I am sold self-consciousness. I stand in front of the mirror and criticize every stretch mark and any body fat that has found itself onto my body. I pray that my daughter does not idolize 'perfection'. I pray she does not suffer. I pray the world changes. I pray.
superlunarysyzygyg
"Write for me."
You once said and a mixture of sunshine and hesitation flashed all over my face.
Because one, I remember a stranger. Two, so beautiful, smiling in a long way away from me, talking and I watched his lips drew words and movements in the air which led me to - Three, how can someone look so extremely beautiful and captivating in just a stolen glance? Four, you. It was you who, like a fallen angel, appeared to me one night. You talked about the girl you like and how her beauty captured your sight. Five, and I, too, told my friends about the beauty locked in your dark-brown eyes. As to how they stare at me back, like I was an ice cream melting and blushing in shock. Six, you asked me to write about you. Yet little do you know that I’ve long ago gathered verses that matched the sunflowers I planted for you. Because seven, you've always occupied my mind, like you were a prisoner jailed inside and there was no way for you to escape. Eight, like a broken track, your voice and little memories kept on playing back. And I was afraid you might gonna stay there forever, stuck. Nine, so beautiful, I saw you again. I saw you again smiling in a long way away from me, talking and I watched your lips drew words and melodies straight to my soul and I asked myself, who else wouldn't fall in love? Because if you ask me - Ten, I'd say yes.
"Write for me."
You reminded me.
But love, I've already written for you before you could even ask.
— July 20 // For you’re my muse, how can I not write about you?
Loved
The warmth of a hug,
The sweetness of a kiss,
The beating of my heart
With you around me.
.
The spark of a caress,
The lust of a touch,
The look of your eyes
When they stare right through mine.
.
The simplest of things,
I'm not lucky enough to have,
Even though I've yearned for so long
To feel
How it is to be loved.
"what you love about her the most?" They asked.
"She make me feel like I am in heaven even in this world that seems like hell" he replied.
