You are my religion.
The reason of my sudden F
a
l
l
and you are my obsession,
my dogma.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 8:23 AM UTC
It’s 1:49 AM, I’m eighteen and I have classes tomorrow morning at 9 in the morning and I’m going to turn nineteen on December, that means one more year until I become a twenty years old, useless adult that’s leeching off my parent’s wallet, because I don’t have a way of living and I need internet.
It’s 1:51 AM and I’m getting older and older by the second and I’m here wasting my time ranting on a blog that nobody cares about. I am so frustrated and that’s probably, because I’m on my period and I’m starving, but I don’t want to eat.
It’s 5:53 AM and I’m thinking, am I fat shamming if I say I don’t want to be fat? because I don’t. I personally don’t find a fat ‘me’ attractive. No it’s not about a fat person, it’s about a fat me. I don’t want to see a fat me.
1:58 AM, it’s almost two, I should sleep, but I wont, I feel restless and I suppose that’s normal, because I am eighteen going on nineteen and soon I’ll be twenty, a *** and a shame. Where is my life heading?
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 2:01 PM UTC
I desperately wanted to be beautiful.
So I harvested all the roses in my garden.
They said it's too pitiful.
That my ugliness cannot be pardon.
But I cut them.
plucked all the petal.
break all the stem
and drop the flowers on my kettle
I made rose water to drink.
and I hope like roses.
I bloom.
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 12:10 PM UTC
Let me keep my kiss,
Let me keep my heart,
I don't need to fall in love, not yet.
Not now.
I can not break my self open,
hand my self to one.
Show them what inside,
afraid, that they would run.
Let me keep my love,
Let me keep my own,
I cannot fall in love,
not yet, not now.
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 11:18 AM UTC
Your charms are engraved on my heart ,
your scent forever lingering on my clothes,
every detail of your fluttering lashes and how your hair fall,
I will remember it.
I do not need to open my eyes to see,
your image is burned inside my eyelids.
I could see you as clear as I can.
Young and Beautiful.
Perfection at it's very best.
*They were lying when they said no one is perfect,
because you're.*
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 11:00 AM UTC
She know not any language. No word could suffice.
Tremor of adoration is not just, 'I love you' and
'I adore you' is not enough. It will not do.
So she gathers every flower and she devours them.
*A yellow Tulip for my beloved one, I shower you with white roses
Reply, not in sun kissed carnation, but in bright red.*
I love you, adore you. Love me too.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
You are beautiful and sad
worn out at such a young age.
tired and bored and endlessly unsatisfied.
whether you're surrounded or alone
whether you're standing in front of a mirror
or attempting to sleep on your bed.
There are days you laugh at the silliest things and nights
you cry, because of nothingness.
And you know you're young, but you feel old.
and you feel you're growing old and youth is slipping away
from your finger tips.
"I wanna do so many things"
" I want to be happy"
you say, but you continue to stand move less.
are you a coward or perhaps a fool?
what are you doing here?
why do you continue to stay so, very sad?
I am not allowed to say
"get over yourself"
"stop whining"
because you're depress aren't you?
special, more fragile.
because you are worthless.
and I am not allowed to say.
what you repeatedly say to yourself.
last night you wanted to die--
no one listened to you, no one understood you.
and no one will ever understand you, no one will ever listen
You want to get over yourself, but you can't.
and you chug another pill, maybe another one just in case.
But you see... the harsh truth is,
you are alone, you will always be alone.
and your parents will not understand you, neither your friends
and sometimes even you, yourself would not understand.
that is why, my dearest friend--
*You must **** it up.
Get up. Grow.
Prove me wrong, that you're not worthless.
prove yourself wrong. That you can.*
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 9:19 AM UTC
Thoughtless and blankness are my thoughts,
many words remained unsaid and they only gather dust.
My throat itches with uncertainty and I could only
cough syllables after syllables of falsity--
I want to tell the world many things, I want
to describe the beauty I see when I look up,
that the clouds do in fact conjure up images
and bird do move in such graceful free manner.
"what are you doing?"
" nothing---"
' I was trying to count the clouds, they look wonderful don't they?'
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 7:53 AM UTC
She's just a strange girl,
whose steps bore insecurity.
And her limbs awkwardly moves along as she walks.
and she is ashamed of the pitch of her voice.
so she never talks.
And when she does, her words comes out in mystical forms
a language none could understand.
"What gibberish none sense?"
the adult says as he took his scissored hand and cut her tongue.
only to replace it with one that could utter words that pleases him.
and no longer, was she a strange girl.
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 11:39 AM UTC
I am beastly, to the tip of my toe to my dried raspy lips,
my soul and all that is me.
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC