LB just cries

birthday writing

7 de mayo

luminosity 74%

born: dumb and poetic, and all the other things I've ever been

pained: I've always known it, if it's part of me, might as well be me

angry: a numbing anger, knowing it; fighting not to feel it

naive: it's a fine line; is it innocence or ignorance?

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

contemplating the desires I hold within

comfort: I'm not sure I've ever known comfort like... really known it; been enveloped in it consumed by it, even. I wonder if I would choose it if i was earnestly faced with it it hurts me to see 'em choose comfort. I wish I could, too

love: I'm overwhelmed by it I feel it coming from every direction feeling so confined by defining it, refining it & complying with it. I've known it as a weapon, but I want it as a cure

choice: the power of choice is control a foolish thought, but it takes hold. longing to let go of choosing to be the choice, rather than an ideal, or a promise or whatever the fuck I've ever been

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

embracing whatever all this makes me.

multitudes a rainbow buzzing static a worm endless; infinite a body with a soul,

at least... I hope