__A pistol tucked inside my heart__—
memories of old dreams echo like bullet
wounds. Freedom comes, quietly, when
I finally let myself be known to myself.
Lips are like public transport;
they carry heavy loads:
_sometimes love, sometimes doubt._
But the private lifts? Those are the words
we whisper to ourselves when we’re trying
to lift ourselves up, above our own doubts.
__What loads are you carrying?__ Will your
transport make...or break someone?
Because belief in your own worth is such
a heavy load. __And no__— it’s not something
you should carry alone.
The weight of any load feels lighter when
the ones you love—and who love you back—
don’t just stand beside you; they help you
carry what you were never meant to bear alone.
Jun 23, 2025
Jun 23, 2025 at 4:23 AM UTC
__A pistol tucked inside my heart__—
memories of old dreams echo like bullet
wounds. Freedom comes, quietly, when
I finally let myself be known to myself.
Lips are like public transport;
they carry heavy loads:
_sometimes love, sometimes doubt._
But the private lifts? Those are the words
we whisper to ourselves when we’re trying
to lift ourselves up, above our own doubts.
__What loads are you carrying?__ Will your
transport make...or break someone?
Because belief in your own worth is such
a heavy load. __And no__— it’s not something
you should carry alone.
The weight of any load feels lighter when
the ones you love—and who love you back—
don’t just stand beside you; they help you
carry what you were never meant to bear alone.
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