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#afterthought
~though nameless, she knows for whom the poem tolls~ <> my dear one, raving is freeing, unabashed admiration, enfilling us with overflowing contentment when one reads a poem they love, of love, of life. that enthralls, bringing tears both salty & sweet, a rave is a unquieted overflowing compliment from a different vein, a special duct, reserved for special purpose, so I ask what shall I call you, nameless, faceless, one, in order to rave? ❤️ ———- an afterthought ———- God Just Came Near A Poem by Hafiz —- “No one in need of love Can sit with my verse for An hour And then walk away without carrying Golden tools, And feeling that God just came near."{
0
7d ago
May 27, 2026 at 6:18 AM UTC
A Rave for Nameless (for Now)
The moment you stared at me it scared the living hell out of me because you were slowly memorizing the chipped nails on my fingers the creases on my forehead the crevices on my lips the blemishes on my skin the scars on my wrists the curves of my waist the bruises on my knuckles and the dull gloss on my eyes and with the way you looked at me I'm sure you were slowly etching every bit of me into your mind making me into just a memory that soon will be tucked away even though that's the last place where I would want to stay
0
Jan 12
Jan 12, 2026 at 1:24 AM UTC
Etched in the Afterthought
Enjoy the mocking tick after tock from the clock as the hands race monotony just to land on a preoccupied spot, no over shot Reality not taught, reason is a subplot, lost in translation was the caveat, what's the grand plan for this life span time forgot Avoiding deaths cousin, the sandman, only shortened the journey to the grand finale at the bottom of a grave plot, a hateful fate fought Thought I ought not move to avoid falling through the bottom of all rock bottoms due to the dry rot, a quicksand sandbox in back of Salems lot Rescue or recovery a long shot, no one within earshot but there's an onslaught of inner dialogue piercing the void like the scream of a red hot teapot As is common with the distraught I sought help from the cold embrace of a slipknot that grew taut through the progression of this thrown together plot of a should've been cancelled pilot Don't ask me what I see in this blind study of an inkblot, any sanity you got would crumble if caught up in the web of nightmare fuel my own mind went ahead and brought Forced to boycott my being, can't connect good story lines, lost a dot, popped a squat in a thousand watt recliner like a pre-programmed self destruct robot Self-preservation an afterthought, miles out to sea before I realized I've not yet bought a yacht, treading water in a tough spot Messed around and got so high I got caught in the sky like a drifting astronaut lost in space, tethered to a dead cosmonaut A crackpot juggernaut of supreme disappointment, walk the walk and take a potshot at a what not to do mascot Cross my i's and dot t's with the underutilized comic sans faunt that don't nobody want, awoken by the taunt of a witching hour haunt "Fuuck the record and fuuck the people!" like you heard from Snot, you'll probably be hearing it from me a lot Before I become a forget-me-not long forgot but go or stay, either way, still dangerous as a traveling blood clot The good fight was not fought, this life was not sought, everyone seems to have it together, I'm the biggest have not on the block Do with that what you will, I'm going on a long walk down a short dock with a giant rock in each sock Then the plan is to mock god to his face and see the shock on his face as I say I could do better and see if I get the morning stars spot I mean, why not? It's worth a shot ©2023
0
May 10, 2023
May 10, 2023 at 6:45 PM UTC
~•§•~ Forget-Me-Not ~•§•~
Enjoy the mocking tick after tock from the clock as the hands race monotony just to land on a preoccupied spot, no over shot Reality not taught, reason is a subplot, lost in translation was the caveat, what's the grand plan for this life span time forgot Avoiding deaths cousin, the sandman, only shortened the journey to the grand finale at the bottom of a grave plot, a hateful fate fought Thought I ought not move to avoid falling through the bottom of all rock bottoms due to the dry rot, a quicksand sandbox in back of Salems lot Rescue or recovery a long shot, no one within earshot but there's an onslaught of inner dialogue piercing the void like the scream of a red hot teapot As is common with the distraught I sought help from the cold embrace of a slipknot that grew taut through the progression of this thrown together plot of a should've been cancelled pilot Don't ask me what I see in this blind study of an inkblot, any sanity you got would crumble if caught up in the web of nightmare fuel my own mind went ahead and brought Forced to boycott my being, can't connect good story lines, lost a dot, popped a squat in a thousand watt recliner like a pre-programmed self destruct robot Self-preservation an afterthought, miles out to sea before I realized I've not yet bought a yacht, treading water in a tough spot Messed around and got so high I got caught in the sky like a drifting astronaut lost in space, tethered to a dead cosmonaut A crackpot juggernaut of supreme disappointment, walk the walk and take a potshot at a what not to do mascot Cross my i's and dot t's with the underutilized comic sans faunt that don't nobody want, awoken by the taunt of a witching hour haunt "Fuuck the record and fuuck the people!" like you heard from Snot, you'll probably be hearing it from me a lot Before I become a forget-me-not long forgot but go or stay, either way, still dangerous as a traveling blood clot The good fight was not fought, this life was not sought, everyone seems to have it together, I'm the biggest have not on the block Do with that what you will, I'm going on a long walk down a short dock with a giant rock in each sock Then the plan is to mock god to his face and see the shock on his face as I say I could do better and see if I get the morning stars spot I mean, why not? It's worth a shot ©2023
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19
I'm angry with you I am sure you don't care If these words were spoken I'd be wasting my air My feelings not even an afterthought in your brain You are too selfish to consider my pain
0
Mar 23, 2022
Mar 23, 2022 at 6:31 AM UTC
Wasting My Air
midnight diamonds, winds in the south, sun traveled southbound, you see, you lingered in some subtle guises when you’re mine, yet you’re gone. the stars stud my heavens, hot and flickering, the wind embraces me - these spark some painful thoughts i never told anybody. these remind me that somewhere out there i too reappear in your mind for a while, and this is when i beg the most: for you never to forget my gentle feelings, and my timid cold fingers. i know at best i could be only your afterthought, my dear, and i am learning to live with this, i am learning to live with this fact that you’re letting me slip away. you’re with me ‘till this ends, ‘till i have transcended the agony of naive wonderfulness. and i can live with your ghost, these ruins of relics. you’re with me, my sweetheart, ‘till i’m mended and be brave enough to open up to a new soul.
0
Feb 20, 2021
Feb 20, 2021 at 2:56 PM UTC
afterthought
A perplexed hand reaches out and a trembling fingertip reaches the **** It circles the burgundy, round grip with faltering determination to push the hazel door forward.
0
Nov 22, 2020
Nov 22, 2020 at 2:36 AM UTC
afterthought.
I remember once, long ago When you were my entire world You sent me a text at 2.a.m The time of the lonely, loving and lustful I thought it was because, you were thinking about me. But it’s taken years For me to realize You were never lonely, loving or lustful Not for me anyway But because I was an afterthought I will always be your afterthought
0
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 2:13 AM UTC
Lonely, Loving, Lustful
Today I visited the town we first met It felt strange and persuasively calming, I mean i wanna say i feel happy by the familiarity of the overall (seeing the landmarks, those tiny colored waterfalls near the mall back when i was a kid, my not so favorite school, all those aligned streets in slick rythem that led me home every time I thought I lost track) but see it surprisingly hurts because all I could think about when the sun hits my eyes is how i can blindly remember the way to your front lawn as if it was mine. It hurts because I know i can drag my feet to your home in this right very second, I could find you in a pitch black evening by the way your feet strikes the earth, and I’d catch up to you and I’d tell you about how I’ve been since you blocked me from your contact list and how i now prefer iced coffee over hot drinks and how i no longer drink orange juice because it causes me heartburn and my well to live curls up in fragile shells and under my finger nails like small rice i hate it because I’m my own wide awake walking ******* menace. and I miss you. The thought of you missing a year worth of new findings and updates makes me linger on meals, and under cold showers; because all i wanna do is tell you how it turns out I’m allergic to hair dye, and henna, and pretty much any outsider element that touches my skin for more than thirteen minutes in total. How I like my new short burnet hair, and that my sister had her first babygirl which makes feel old and I still don’t know if I love it or hate it yet. and that I grew found of  black coffee, and how badly i want to adopt a cat as if my life depends on it. And I AM Angry. I’m ****** off because I wanna ask you how you doing, and how your life away from me been treating your codependency, has it mend you well, Has my broken glass of memory still hunts your comfort zone. i want to let you know I still like my Oreos and cereal with cold milk, and I like the way music hold me right back from the end edge of living every night after two thirty in the morning.  and how much i hate how the moon is plain still, and is not as everlasting and it makes me teary eyes for a quarter of a second, and the weather treats my mental health, I’m ****** because I feel prisoner in my own bone cells and mind frame, and body image and people’s ******* expectations. I render my mind games into hoping some kinda nature element manipulate you to text me back or persuade you enough to withdraw Baby, if I’m still in a place to call you that,  if i told you I’m at our favorite place in town would you meet me half way? because I am really sick of being an afterthought.
0
Jul 6, 2019
Jul 6, 2019 at 6:47 AM UTC
“Hometown”
Today I visited the town we first met It felt strange and persuasively calming, I mean i wanna say i feel happy by the familiarity of the overall (seeing the landmarks, those tiny colored waterfalls near the mall back when i was a kid, my not so favorite school, all those aligned streets in slick rythem that led me home every time I thought I lost track) but see it surprisingly hurts because all I could think about when the sun hits my eyes is how i can blindly remember the way to your front lawn as if it was mine. It hurts because I know i can drag my feet to your home in this right very second, I could find you in a pitch black evening by the way your feet strikes the earth, and I’d catch up to you and I’d tell you about how I’ve been since you blocked me from your contact list and how i now prefer iced coffee over hot drinks and how i no longer drink orange juice because it causes me heartburn and my well to live curls up in fragile shells and under my finger nails like small rice i hate it because I’m my own wide awake walking ******* menace. and I miss you. The thought of you missing a year worth of new findings and updates makes me linger on meals, and under cold showers; because all i wanna do is tell you how it turns out I’m allergic to hair dye, and henna, and pretty much any outsider element that touches my skin for more than thirteen minutes in total. How I like my new short burnet hair, and that my sister had her first babygirl which makes feel old and I still don’t know if I love it or hate it yet. and that I grew found of  black coffee, and how badly i want to adopt a cat as if my life depends on it. And I AM Angry. I’m ****** off because I wanna ask you how you doing, and how your life away from me been treating your codependency, has it mend you well, Has my broken glass of memory still hunts your comfort zone. i want to let you know I still like my Oreos and cereal with cold milk, and I like the way music hold me right back from the end edge of living every night after two thirty in the morning.  and how much i hate how the moon is plain still, and is not as everlasting and it makes me teary eyes for a quarter of a second, and the weather treats my mental health, I’m ****** because I feel prisoner in my own bone cells and mind frame, and body image and people’s ******* expectations. I render my mind games into hoping some kinda nature element manipulate you to text me back or persuade you enough to withdraw Baby, if I’m still in a place to call you that,  if i told you I’m at our favorite place in town would you meet me half way? because I am really sick of being an afterthought.
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17
There are flowers springing from my bones in places they were never planted fracture my skull and call it apathy I say pain is a better road than dying alone; can't you see the way my vision is blurred, squinted too long at the sun now I think I've done damage burned holes in my corneas before the age of 21, but those are just surface things, right? the road feels a lot longer when the cold air hits all my soft spots, like my neck so I cover it up pooling all my efforts into growing thicker blood that will keep my skin warm ;keep kissing bruises on my arms, thinking that love will heal each new halfhearted attempt at self-sabotage or manage the leftover evidence; did somebody forget their brakelights on? I'm trying to figure out how to get these needles out of my head rocket science, learning to reverse detonate what might be left in my system system check, leaving sticky residue behind me in my heavy concave tracks softly trailing back gotta learn to do it right the first time before I backtrack my ears ringing like a sound clap; bringing up old war wounds like we've lost gives us some sense of entitlement things we don't want to lack, leave the last stack where I can mull over the aftermath digging graves for those who are still alive, burn my skin tonight burn it right off my bones so I'll know I'm alive still kicking like the second round the afterthought that realizes what went down the first time don't let me out of the house tonight, god knows what I might find.
0
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC
back-track;
There are flowers springing from my bones in places they were never planted fracture my skull and call it apathy I say pain is a better road than dying alone; can't you see the way my vision is blurred, squinted too long at the sun now I think I've done damage burned holes in my corneas before the age of 21, but those are just surface things, right? the road feels a lot longer when the cold air hits all my soft spots, like my neck so I cover it up pooling all my efforts into growing thicker blood that will keep my skin warm ;keep kissing bruises on my arms, thinking that love will heal each new halfhearted attempt at self-sabotage or manage the leftover evidence; did somebody forget their brakelights on? I'm trying to figure out how to get these needles out of my head rocket science, learning to reverse detonate what might be left in my system system check, leaving sticky residue behind me in my heavy concave tracks softly trailing back gotta learn to do it right the first time before I backtrack my ears ringing like a sound clap; bringing up old war wounds like we've lost gives us some sense of entitlement things we don't want to lack, leave the last stack where I can mull over the aftermath digging graves for those who are still alive, burn my skin tonight burn it right off my bones so I'll know I'm alive still kicking like the second round the afterthought that realizes what went down the first time don't let me out of the house tonight, god knows what I might find.
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32
You trust so easily, Fragile Heart When you know it's when you let them in That they break you, and tear you apart. You believe everything you want to hear Fill yourself up with empty hope That's recycled out as salty tears. You tie yourself to the ground with scars Like a balloon secured on a windy day So they remind you of who you are. "I'm not going to be staying here." You wanted so bad to fly away But Love, just know, you're not going anywhere.
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Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 8:40 AM UTC
The Aftermath was an Afterthought
I am an afterthought A second hand emotion A distant memory that is just out of reach and leaves you vacant I am the second lover who can never live up to the the first A lukewarm cup of coffee that you'll drink but never enjoy I am chipped in the major places of my heart But you keep coming back to see if you can fix me Yet neither of us enjoy my anguish
0
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 2:59 PM UTC
Forsaken
Yeah, I agree with you, So why you got to yell? Yeah, I said your right, What else can I do? You just wanna fight! Oh whatever, what the hell? Did you just say we're through? That's fine I'll walk that line! No, plz believe I can walk, Yeah, there's no reason to reasonably talk, Here's your ring, Your castle is all your's my king! Now halfway to the road, You take me into hold? Hold up, this is enough! I'm tired of this **** Tomorrow you'll apologize & say it was because you were lit! Happens every time, getting tired of this same rhyme, Go ahead & just **** me this time, Keep choking me until I'm past passed out! Do what you're always bragging about! Great just what I thought, I'm still going to wake up, like the morning afterthought!
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Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 8:20 AM UTC
"Morning Afterthought"
There's a gap between what I fear and what I think to fear; there's a night, sure, between those tiny things Because to fear is to live, as the leaf in the burning forest still breathing, fearing not the death, but leaving the living I do not fear the death I just fear the night falling over my sholder, my head; my integrity what it means being me I fear those things I'm not certain of (as the rest of living things I think) But scarier is to know that we truely do not know the certainty of all the things we say we know And of all those nocturnal dreads there are a few that keep me awake waiting for an answer that will never come as the lost remembrance of an ancient love as the farther forefather of a forgotten folk as the man watching through my window in a windy storm passing by the city There's a lot of dreads at the midnight that keep me awake thinking about things that I should not but I think all the condamned are bound to write about nightmares and imaginariums that does not belong to us but yet, they're ours to transform And maybe one day the dreads will go far away from our city, as the storm maybe one day we will burn as the leaf and then we will stop fearing what we do not really know
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Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 2:19 AM UTC
All the nocturnal dreads
shuffling papers together into a pile, you look like you’ve run a mile. in such a hurry of what you’re looking for that you forget what you’re pushing ashore. papers strewn across the table gathered in a fit of labor; you’re in a hurry to chase the next high but are you really? or are you really just chasing flies? i am the paper that slips out of your grip. i am the paper that hangs off the tip. the floor beckons my fall, the drop becomes a call. a call for help, yet a call ignored as you left me on the side as though i am nothing more. (maybe its because i mention death like a prayer.) i am the paper that idles by. i am the paper that was hung out to dry. you’ve purposely left me behind. you’ve shoved me aside blind. i trusted in you therefore i am blind. when you confided in me, i was kind. (maybe you were hurt by my actions.) i am the paper sitting silently. i am the paper binging on anxiety. pick me up again and i’d be useful. use me again although it may be cruel. i don’t like the feeling of being abandoned. it makes me feel like i’m a loose cannon. (maybe your dead stares makes me ill.)   i am the paper that flew with the wind i am the paper you seem to have skimmed i am an afterthought, i think to myself a lot. i am being overlooked like a blind spot. i am forgotten just as easily. you’ve gotten rid of me, finally! (maybe i should scratch until i bleed today.) i am the paper that is facing down. i am the paper that is close to breaking down. i wear a mask that is always cracking. because i am done pretending. pretending that everything is okay. pretending that i am sane when i’m being put on display. (maybe i should be punished for thinking this way.) i am the paper that flew into the mud. i am the paper that is drenched in my own blood. i am weak but i am not. i am strong but i think not. i am tired but i am trying. i am trying but i am dying. (maybe my death will prove that i am right.) i am an afterthought that is being forgotten and i know its a lot for you but if you ever think me rotten, tell me now because i am not willing to be the paper that was made out of spun cotton: valuable until deemed unimportant, helpful until easily forgotten. (maybe I can finally sleep tonight.) i am an afterthought that is being forgotten and i know its a lot for you but its a lot for me too.
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Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 9:07 AM UTC
i am an afterthought
shuffling papers together into a pile, you look like you’ve run a mile. in such a hurry of what you’re looking for that you forget what you’re pushing ashore. papers strewn across the table gathered in a fit of labor; you’re in a hurry to chase the next high but are you really? or are you really just chasing flies? i am the paper that slips out of your grip. i am the paper that hangs off the tip. the floor beckons my fall, the drop becomes a call. a call for help, yet a call ignored as you left me on the side as though i am nothing more. (maybe its because i mention death like a prayer.) i am the paper that idles by. i am the paper that was hung out to dry. you’ve purposely left me behind. you’ve shoved me aside blind. i trusted in you therefore i am blind. when you confided in me, i was kind. (maybe you were hurt by my actions.) i am the paper sitting silently. i am the paper binging on anxiety. pick me up again and i’d be useful. use me again although it may be cruel. i don’t like the feeling of being abandoned. it makes me feel like i’m a loose cannon. (maybe your dead stares makes me ill.)   i am the paper that flew with the wind i am the paper you seem to have skimmed i am an afterthought, i think to myself a lot. i am being overlooked like a blind spot. i am forgotten just as easily. you’ve gotten rid of me, finally! (maybe i should scratch until i bleed today.) i am the paper that is facing down. i am the paper that is close to breaking down. i wear a mask that is always cracking. because i am done pretending. pretending that everything is okay. pretending that i am sane when i’m being put on display. (maybe i should be punished for thinking this way.) i am the paper that flew into the mud. i am the paper that is drenched in my own blood. i am weak but i am not. i am strong but i think not. i am tired but i am trying. i am trying but i am dying. (maybe my death will prove that i am right.) i am an afterthought that is being forgotten and i know its a lot for you but if you ever think me rotten, tell me now because i am not willing to be the paper that was made out of spun cotton: valuable until deemed unimportant, helpful until easily forgotten. (maybe I can finally sleep tonight.) i am an afterthought that is being forgotten and i know its a lot for you but its a lot for me too.
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61
Without you I'm content with life All you did was brandish a knife And named it love, but the hilt was made of self-deception That you'd go for like an interception Just like you'd intercept my feelings With playing the victim and all your dealings With the demons you swore to never be We'll see who you become when you can't leech off me
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Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 8:39 PM UTC
Toxicity
Your name tastes sour in my mouth, I should be breathing you in, but I want to spit you out, cause I'm just an afterthought, an occasional roundabout. You surround me but never close enough, we keep arguing in circles and I've had too much Sick of nursing this brick in my chest, wonder why I haven't left yet, sick of feeding the doubts in my head, I think you'll be my next regret. You let snowflakes fall on my tongue, am I supposed to think that's sweet, when your love is built on nothing concrete and you seem to be a one end street? You seem to be one for the road, but you still haunt my sleep and so while I toss and turn for you, your mind is devoid of me.
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Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 8:25 PM UTC
Afterthought
In short: you're a protist. ©Copyright 2014 Written and Edited by Racquel Davis
0
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
Down to a Science 🔬
Now, I lay me down to sleep In this dark, dreary December If you awake and I am gone What would you remember? The way I laugh at little jokes or how I drink my tea The way I do the little things Would you remember me? If I had passed on in the night would you think of how I looked at ball games and at puppy dogs and of all the things I cooked My scent, would things remind you of how I sometimes smelled would you think of things I ******* up and of all the times I yelled If you awoke one morning and found I'm not to be what would you remember? would you remember me? If things did happen backwards and I woke and you weren't there I'd miss the way you smiled The perfume of your hair the ways your eyes did twinkle when you had a special thought of doing something naughty of somewhow being caught I'd remember things about you of glances in the night of how we worked together of how we fit just right I know that I'd remember these things and more, you'd see but I know, that I'd remember But would you remember me?
0
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 7:35 PM UTC
Would You Remember?
To be an afterthought, manifested as a shrug then BOOM forgot. Well, forgotten. Forgotten about when you wanted to do something more worth doing, or maybe worth talkin' about. The pain shot through the heart, and left an open would in my chest, but writhing here felt like a place I could finally rest. If I was worth remembering,  worth the top spot at the front of your brain, maybe then I'd be worth your attention, like the homeless when it rains. I just didn't want to be an afterthought, because now that all there was to think is thought you're the only thought that's left, and I hate thinking you've forgotten me as I come to my last breath.
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Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 1:08 AM UTC
An After Thought
She was an afterthought, Like salad,on the side Like a footnote to a long letter, Like curry leaves to gravy, Like the dregs at the bottom of a cup of tea, Like the second man on the moon, She was an afterthought, Always a step behind, Always a second choice, Never sought after or valued, Neither loved nor cherished, Like a faded old photograph, Like an out of tune guitar gathering dust in the attic, She was an afterthought, Quickly replaced,easily forgotten and never remembered
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Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 8:28 AM UTC
Afterthought
Days become smaller as nights take over. You move faster as you go further, away with the sun. No more warmer as the tension grows stronger. The air is colder, the breaths are shorter. Time moves slower. Your grip gets tighter, as I start to waver. And everything I've bled for never even mattered. With you, it's just a sliver, filled with hope, as it grows weaker. The heart, it withers, and here we are, lost in whatever. Whatever this is, you keep me here, where I don't even want to be near. Let me go, I don't want to be lost in you, already consumed by the truth. Hesitation follows, as you stay leaving me hollow. There's no light coming through, and I'm losing sight of myself when it should have been you. So please, stop stringing me along, when all you're doing making the rights wrong. Nothing gets better; because of you, forever never comes closer.
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:56 PM UTC
Being second place is worse than losing.
I am queen of afterthoughts, rarely of fore. Especially not in matters of hearts. I am dry heaving sighs, with leaden guilt and what ifs. **** them. **** me.
0
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
Untitled