What If I Put A Gentle Yet Firm Hand On Your Chin To Hold You Still While I Put Lipstick On Your Lips.

““If you’re struggling and your people are just sitting there watching you struggle, they’re not your people.” Unknown”

—

I hope writers realize that were not here to

Impress anyone

Make people like us

We're not even here to write well

We're here to finish the book

And not be historically accurate or use the correct word for it

I hope we writers know you can overexplain something and then remember the short word that summarises the 3 pages once u publish the book

This is for all teenage, rupi kaur 'cringey' writers as well. (I dont like u but u deserve a place on this earth aswell)

If this pain chooses not to leave me

I hope I end my life

I hope I don't force myself to live through it all with the false hope that I will find peace and love and dreams coming true

I hope I can give myself the privilege of death and not force myself to live for others

Oh my goddd im in my teenage depression phase 😦

Oh how I wish I just chose to hate you instead.

I love myself- I love myself so much. But it gets lonely when it just me, just me who loves me.

Tunblr logo so ugly ewq

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?

God gave me royalty to be at ease yet it's the thing I hate the most about me. He gave me good things to be grateful for but I hate them all. This is because there is something rotting within me. It was all assigned to the wrong person. I cannot be normal. "I feel scared Yusuf. I'm scared of you. Whenever you kiss my feet I remember how I was treated in the palace. You dont treat me like the servants used to. Why don't you treat me like the servants used to? Why don't you treat me like a slave? I am carrying every bad thing that has ever happened to me on my back like a sack of stones over my shoulder wherever I go. It digs into my neck and causes a rash that burns. Initially, I thought maybe I felt special. After all, I am a princess. I thought that's what separates me from the crowd. But when people flash a smile I feel offended. I hate it, Yusuf. I hate when people smile and compliment me. I hate anything lavish. I desperately need gold that is fake. I need to be clad in simple cotton kurtas. I hate the colour red. This is what I try to explain to you everyday! In the bazaar, you pitied me for the common stones on the rings occupying my fingers. I explained it to you then. After it all, you say I do not deserve the frail mattresses. What is that you mean? Are you trying to take revenge on me?! Though our hatred for my father is mutual, after all I am his daughter. How am I supposed to believe you do not wish to sabotage me when you threaten to put me in the same position I barely crawled out of? Do you even know? I hate the purple silk sheets and the grandiose bed chamber. When I lie on my back, I still do not get adequate rest because the light of the moon is caught by the very real diamonds stuck to the top edges of the chamber. It glints and reflects onto my eyes. It is blinding. I hate them, too. The royal stones remind me of the rotten marrow swimming in my bones. I hate when I look into the mirror and I look pretty."

My dear, I will read your book.

Best believe I will not criticise the flow of words for I know they are born out of the heart. I will read despite the timeskips and flawed main couples, I will memorize your difficult pages despite their jaggedy flow.

But my dear, first you must bring me the book.

Write, my darling. The hypothetical reader in your mind is as inaccurate as one can be— for the reader that I am, all I need is words.

But you must write first, my darling. Do it for me

I'm your reader

"Yes, I'm a murderer. Be it for Good or Evil, I play culprit of several last breaths- Nothing can justify that- Yet somehow... I crave warmth."

"I blame the cold that rests within my core, for it makes me tremble and yearn for even a speck of fire. Perhaps it's why at the end of the day, I always find myself melted in your embrace. For I am a parasite. A parasite that leeches off your love," his eyes meet hers, "Stay away from me if you feel dire need of affection. Cryogenic knights have no love to offer." His tone is more direct this time, a vain attempt to seem intimidating. "Besides, Heat only melts ice."

Context: he's made of ice but she's made of Fire lmao, I love yin n yang tropes