and you will still sit. you will sit and wallow in the sadness while admiring nature. you’ll sit and look into their eyes and feel nothing but pain. you’ll pull your feet up, sit while the car is driving, out the music too-high so the thoughts are too-quiet. you’ll edit yourself again and again, you’ll watch yourself as you out makeup on, like it’ll ever cover the acne scars fully. you’ll watch yourself fall again and again, but you will sit and remember this all, like it was someone else’s life anyway

i am fluid. i am letting my brain go to the paces it wants to. i am not controlling myself. i am letting myself worry and get over it. i am in love, i am free of myself. i will scroll pinterest and play my little horse game. i am haunted by the ghosts of my past, yet i try to forget them constantly. i am free to love what i want and still keep her. i keep everyone i meet, but she's special, i think. i am fluid, i let my thoughts come and go, yet i hold onto you, like it'll save me (it does)

i’m lying on my bed, my mind is getting numb, i can’t even begin to fathom anyone seeing me naked, physically or emotionally. i don’t want your self help books, i just want a cure. i want a cure for me, because i don’t think i’m meant to be like this. i’m not meant to spend my days grovelling to a sky in case an angel finds me lying on the ground with wings poking out. i’m meant to have what i want and now. i want to be somewhere else, and i don’t want to be alone

am i an angel or a god? and i don’t mean that in the sense of being worshipped, i mean it in the sense of being remembered. will i be known as an elusive being? one with wings? or will i be permanent to peoples lives? will they come to me for help? or will i be there, forever floating, forever free yet trapped? now this isn’t the most well-written thing here, but my question still stands; will i be remembered well?

growing up is realising that we have free will. you can create that playlist right now, you can travel, get a job, quit the job, regret it. growing up is realising that life moves by itself, yet we create our reality. we can say we want it and have it, or we can wish and count shooting stars. we can eat the food we're not supposed to, feel bad, feel sad, listen to the same song on repeat. we are allowed to feel, we are meant to feel, we are not meant to repress emotions. we are made to feel joy, and love, and sadness, and experience it all with pain and wonder. we are made to be in awe of that building we never noticed until now. growing up is realising we can change our aesthetic, we can hate the notions of aesthetics or love them, or maybe just feel neutral. we are allowed to feel neutral. we are allowed to do something illegal (i'm not condoning it) or follow every rule and still be happy either way. growing up is realising is doesn't fucking matter. we can listen to that song and not do what our brain tells us to. if we want to, we can

I'm lost but I'm not. I know what I love. I love her, I love *her*, I love hiding behind a screen. I am hard to love, yet people keep talking to me so they don't let me down. I do Uquizzes too much and write poetry not enough. I have 70 followers but also none. I manifest everything and can't seem to hate anyone, either. I think everything I post will go viral, but I also think I'm too insignificant for anything like that to happen. I am a sixteen year old Girl, but I've seen and though too much for me to think I'm one. I go to school to pass by, I talk to the boys who like me just for my body, knowing full well I'm gay. I hide myself, I can't bare to look at my body, yet I want it to be praised. I an imagaine my future, yet I don't have a solid plan on how to get there. So I'm lost in the sense of I have no one to speak to when it gets rough except for random strangers online, but I'm not in the fact that I know what I like. I know I'm me.