Princess

Hiyaa. I’m new to tumblr and wanted to join to chat to new people and make new mutuals. I’m sort of for the woke girls who grew up fighting with their conservative families, ate lunch in the bathroom stall and read way above their grade level. You can find me on tiktok under the same username @messnerknowsmysecrets. Won’t be revealing my name so you can call me whatever you wan’t, maybe something will stick. Pronouns are She/her.

Heres a little bit about me:

Likes: Ballet, music, editing, books, english lit, languages, 80’s movies, poetry, feminism.

Dislikes: racists, homophobes, transphobes, (you get the gist.) the unknown, spiders, bullies, frizzy hair, misogynistic teenage boys, family problems.

Fandoms: Everything Sucks, But I’m A Cheerleader, Stranger Things, Marvel, The Hunger Games, Shameless.

Music: T Swizzle ✊, Lana Del Rey, Maya Hawke, Hozier, Bleachers, Dodie, Sufjan Stevens, Alex G, Adrienne Lenker, Pavement, Big thief, Blondie, The Smiths, Radiohead, RKS, Stereophonics, Fleetwood Mac, Blur, Boygenius, Phoebe Bridgers, Wolf Alice, Gigi Perez + sm more.

That’s basically it, if u wanna know more you can ask me anything in my ask section.

We weren’t “just playing”,

We were twelve.

Old enough to know where hands don’t go.

The room was full of sound I didn’t make.

Because it’s hard to say no to something you can’t fully comprehend.

But it’s also hard to try and forget.

It lingers.

Like the way I flinch when someone gets too close.

Or freeze up when I hear a laugh that mimics yours.

And even now, in crowded rooms,

I’ll search for an open door,

It seems like they were all locked when you were there.

I wonder if you ever think of those days,

if you remember what you took,

or if it’s easier for you to pretend that nothing happened.

To wash your hands of it,

When I can’t wash off the feeling of yours.

The feeling of shame, disgust.

Carrying a weight upon your shoulders,

A weight of someone else’s choices,

Someone else’s decisions,

Not mine.

I never made up my mind,

Said yes,

Told you I was okay with it.

And nobody ever told me that what happened was wrong,

That I was a victim.

They made me out to be the villain.

Because they only ever care about what fits the narrative.