Not Enough E. E. Cummings Appreciation On This Website. Reblog If Youre A True Cummer

I can almost hear her say that

i sit. i listen to my number one song from spotify wrapped 2023 concorde by black country new road. i think about dead poets society. NO YOU DON’T GET IT BECAUSE YOU LIKE CONCORDE I CAME A GENTLE HILL RACER I WAS BREATHLESS UPON EVERY MOUNTAIN JUST TO LOOK FOR YOUR LIGHT??? BUT FOR LESS THAN A MOMENT WE’D SHARE THE SAME SKY??? AND I’LL COME TO LIKE A CHILD BTW.

Old friend

I am so glad you are back

That you weren't gone for too long. 

But I know it hurts.

The decision you made was hard, and I feel as though I don’t deserve it. 

I don’t deserve to be the reason you chose to be happy. 

The reason you chose to leave her. 

It feels nice, I suppose. 

Like coming home. 

Like wrapping myself in an old quilt.

But it also feels like exactly what it is. 

Coming back to an old friend.  

what if we got lost in the woods & performed dark rituals & engaged in homoerotic acts of cannibalism to survive the frozen winter (and also we were girls)

Journal Page #2

Joan of Arc rant

i'm never opening up to people again. btw

she has little moon earrings- i have star clips in my hair. she goes to the local community college and plans on transferring to the major university- im in a sorority and my life is intertwined in the large school's greek life. she's a local- im seven hours away. she grew up on vast expanses of land, caring for life and surrounded by her family's love- i grew up in a cluttered house that sucked the soul out of anyone who dares to enter and every time I go home i lose a little part of myself. she listens- i talk. she calls be pretty and for once, i believe it. she smiles and i laugh in her tiny car and we stare at each other in the lamp light of a small parking lot after missing our desert reservations. she walks me to my car and we both ask if we could kiss each other, our laughter ringing in the air next to the papa john's we had to bathroom break in because we asked at the same time. she hesitates so i pull her in and it isn't rushed or desperate, it's just gentle and full of potential for something beautiful and she cradles my face and my hands are on her hips and we're next to my beat up car. she tastes like the chocolate milkshake from earlier that night and i can only assume i taste of the cigarette i smoked earlier on that she called "hot". she is a middle child and im the eldest and we still talk and she didn't ghost me and oh, I think something beautiful can come out of this.

If I am being truly honest with myself,

When I think realistically about my future, 

I know in my heart I will be alone. 

It’s not that love isn't something I yearn for.

I do. I really do. 

There is this fire in my heart that wants to be put out.

But I know it will always burn.

It’s not that I am incapable of loving. 

At least I hope not. 

It’s just that I can’t really see why anyone would want to deal with loing me.

From what I know, 

Which isn't much, 

Is that love is supposed to be through thick and thin. 

Love is supposed to be filled with little moments,

Like thinking of them while you fall asleep,

Like getting to know every little thing about them.

Love is supposed to be like coming home in their arms. 

And while I feel like I could feel all of those things for someone else, 

I know nobody would feel it for me. 

Who would want to?

They want to love someone interesting. 

Someone happy. 

Someone smart. 

Someone real. 

I’m none of those things. 

No matter how hard I try. 

I hope one day I will get the hang of it. 

Being lovable. 

But I suppose for now, all that is, is a silly, childish dream.  

explode

I am afraid of so much.

Of getting older.

Of change.

Of moving on.

Of sleep.

Of school.

Of never finding love.

Of routine.

Of the fact that my friends probably don’t love me.

Of failure.

Of loss. 

Of me. 

My collection of fears has grown so large, that my brain has become a museum for them.

Stuffed to the brim.

But new fears continue to be added to my collection everyday. 

I wonder to myself, in a whisper of thought, “Will I have enough space?” 

Or will my brain overflow and explode. 

That is my greatest fear.

Explosion. 

been feeling a lot like him lately