#posted notes

[littlestudyy]

8th April 2017 // Chemistry Long time no see, apologies! Starting Easter holidays with a bang on Rate of Reactions. One of the more challenging topics for me but very interesting nevertheless. I hope you are all well 💙

[frnkierxo]

note 6:

her mouth drips beads of sugar like sparks onto wet pavement, rotting my teeth with every consonant— even just at the thought. It’s been an hour of wreckless day-dreaming, in where I dare endeavour to clench you close to my chest and hold you through the night till a dew ridden sunrise. our hearts beating into a song I don’t mind listening to on repeat. I imagine the whole world would hear, but part of me just wants it to be for us. Oh god, I need to stop waking up.

[frnkierxo]

Trapped in old ways, no ones willing to admit its a trap

[frnkierxo]

Note 7

I cant help noticing the bed glow, it blooms yellow tulips in the places you layed— in the places i consider you dead. Embedded in my memory; laced in my sleep Dumb roses found a home before my eyes Of your dumb lips singing me to sleep Of your dumb lips planting passion within mine (Swallow) Dirty, dirty passion Your hands pressed on me Your dirty, dirty hands The thorns bared, thrive within my insides my bloody insides (Pricked and teased by what you sowed) I threw you away before you could reap what you made bloom so hideously inside of me.

[frnkierxo]

Note:5

Nothing is real. Bedrocks wide awake, scorching sunrises reveal our godlike decay. Nothing makes sense. Slaves to impulses beyond our control, our spirits laugh in darkness. Why do we never find sleep in a wakeless world? Nothing seems right. Flaunting our backs to each other like foe: against ourselves as the enemy; hushed to sleep by a faceless adversary.. Suddenly, nothing becomes everything. But with an empty glass we stare at the sky, Cheering for time, light, and love. With an empty glass, we intoxicate ourselves silly.

[frnkierxo]

‘Tis was a great Pomeranian pooch Smothered and smooched So surreal Till the day the dear pooch Became the grated Pomeranian Atop the dinner meal

(Not me)

[frnkierxo]

note: 3

the color of your eyes were not defined; gazing into their hue was like spinning around and watching the earth blend into the sky— and the dizziness when i come to a stop, too.

i gaze into the stars expecting to hear you whispering to me again, asking, pleading, for me to tell you what i see i pointed out constellations with my pale hand but you were only staring at me, and when i looked back at the stars, they were set ablaze in an explosion of gold

only the collision of icebergs could catch the momentum of that night i cant believe my breathe is still laced in your taste. smashing hour glasses in the palms of your hands was my only relief– in my desolate chest, ive collected the words you sang to me when i couldnt sleep i never threw away anything you gave me