I Love Myself- I Love Myself So Much. But It Gets Lonely When It Just Me, Just Me Who Loves Me.

I hate how pretty I look when I cry.

More so, I hate how I love how wonderful my red nose , red cheeks, and slight swollen eyes make me look. All that makeup and I would never achieve this.

It's like my face is mocking me, you bloom here in sadness as you belong here in sadness.

- sacrificial sinners by j rose

Slipping time is looking down at you. Its favourite incarnation, and it's thinking: has it forgotten us? Has it, forgotten itself?

Time is worried, how the little incarnation with such fascinating drive is no longer moving. You are still as if time is still

Nature within her Palms

"This one's for the leaves." She says, while squeezing out a warm orange on her thumb.

As she's scraping the dry colour off and onto the canvas, I notice her reach for the trembling, paper thin tube- The lukewarm Green. This paint- no, nature on her hands: it's blooming.

"Weird way to paint, no?" she chuckles.

This barren colour grow's ever so full of life on her tan hands, it could call it home.

She's speaking but god, how I can only stare.

I hope someday, I can, too.

-hana💋

I never understood people who stay in abusive relationships when they have access to leaving the relationship.

But when my head hit the pillow this night i made sure to not sleep on my right (even though thats my favourite sleeping position) because not sleeping on your back causes Asymmetry. Then I realised Beauty is like the abuser that everyone praises you for having. For being in a relationship with. Beauty is like the ‘Perfect spouse’ that abuses you when no ones watching, the spouse that causes people to say shallow remarks “you’re such a lucky one for having this person” like you’re nothing without them. when really all the spouse does is hurts you where you can hide it and beautifies you where they can be praised for it. what are you without that spouse? What will you do, even if your life is peaceful if you’re not special anymore without your abusive accessory?

What will you do without beauty?

Tumblr is my twitter because I don't have to close my eyes every 2 seconds because someone ståbbing another person might show up

why is my entire dash 9/11 jokes did smth happen or

My lovers in a band

He plays guitar while I hold his hand

Oh the sound of the screeching tunes

They scratch and bruise

He never lets go

Beauty's pain and

I'm his muse

I pretend to be ever so reserved and cold. But god; how he only told me it was okay to be human- and now I've allowed his lips to find themselves on my wounds. Goodness; how I find myself to be so easily melted.

💋