So, you lick the wound this one last time. Like a discarded snack plate going to waste at that party you wish you'd left sooner. It tastes bitter. Unpalatable. It ceased nourishing you forever ago. You've been gorging on their leftovers, on your salty sadness. But
You say you love me. You just need time. Your indifference paints an uglier portrait. Something busted a deceptive mess. Do you want me? No. Your silence howls 'I DON’T WANT YOU BACK’. And I would have settled for a whisper. -She's Burning
You called me pretty. I played the cool girl, a constructed portrayal of mystery & inaccessibility. Did I make a mistake? Isn’t that what you wanted? A mere prop, a decorative ornament atop your bookshelf. Isn’t that what we both wanted? Sometimes I remember the heavy weight of
I dreamt of you last night. I was smiling over a witty text you'd sent. I woke up in a cold sweat, drenched as confusion ran laps inside my head. Wasn’t I supposed to be alone this year? Isn’t that what I wanted? I said it.
I’m not intriguing. I never consumed your thoughts. I’m not captivating. I never quite could keep you entertained. I’m not indecipherable. I never swept you up in my convoluted pages. I’m not harmonious. I’ll never be a song that gets stuck in your head. I
Do you really think I don't know how you see me? It's reflected in your searching eyes. You fell for the performance the masquerade. I despise the box you've forced me into. The stunningly retched. The opinionated modern whore who'd be more
But how would you feel if I flipped the narrative? What would you think if I spoke, never listened? Would it sting if I beat you to the punch? Every time. If Instead of you saying: 'I love you, ‘but fuck you're too much', I said:
How do I put this gently? If you don’t answer my call, he will. If you leave me on seen, she’ll heart every message. If you waste time, I’ll spend it naked, wrapped in their bed sheets. If you hear tears engulf my breathing & don’t
Dear reader, This blog is a work in progress, much like myself. Similar to a baby clumsily figuring out how to take their first steps, I’m traversing this new world, knowing full well I’ll fall flat on my silly little face numerous times. As fate would have it,
Twenty years ago in May, I met the person who was going to be the love of my life. He thought I was the coolest girl he’d ever met, I on the other hand, I thought he was a bit of a dickhead. Unperturbed by my indifference, he pursued