Why Is My Entire Dash 9/11 Jokes Did Smth Happen Or

You fill me with so much being that I no longer feel woman nor man around you, the presence realization of you puts me in a trance-like state, away from the concept of reality, logic and nature— rather I am forever a cloud hanging around you, only ever activated when ever I am, once again, struck by the realization of you.

Can u guys start putting insanely good books and photoshopping my name on it (hana malik) so together we can create awareness about me as an author (haven't even written my first book)

Help a girl out I'll give u a cookie

And pls gimme more ideas

They say the abused become the abuser. And you have gone through hell.

But what is standing in front of me is this beautiful, fragile woman that holds broken things so gently as she has never been held, who melts her energy into making them intact. Until there is no power, no more love left to give.

I keep waiting.

I keep waiting for a dog so hideous to pass by on our evening walks that you will not pet. I keep waiting for a sunset too plain that you feel it too futile to paint. I look around for a child far too overbearing for you to comfort— But whenever I inquire you, all I hear is that you've been all of those things, and you won't let it happen to anyone else. Too hideous—too plain—Too overbearing—

You love fixing broken things. You attract evil because it latches on to sweetness, sucks it until evil becomes a lovable thing and the source becomes sour and stale.

I believe, sometimes, that is why I am your lover.

But I am no different from when you first met me. You may not have noticed this, but even though you hold me, pour yourself into me, you never attempt to glue me together. You never attempt to fix me. You just bleed into my vacant parts, unafraid of the surrounding filth.

Who did I murder that was so bad, what days did I feed my hungry cat so well that I am held dear to a person like you?

My sweet, sweet Caroline. How could I ever repay your love?

-exerpt from my upcoming villian×hero book🤭💋

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.

Tunblr logo so ugly ewq

“If the full moon loves you, why worry about the stars?”

— Tunisian Proverb

This so mean why my trauma isn't cool af ugh

I feel as though my mind is barren. Like I can't produce more for my writing. Even the simplest of lines are starting to fascinate me now.

Writing was supposed to be therapeutic...

.. not this.

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.

💋

it has begun