The distance between me and my past is not very large…690 km to be precise.
Did I run all the way here or rode some cloud of power I don’t remember?
Funny I ran so hard and so fast and I still find myself under.
Every morning I find something crumble…is it my soul, my mind or just another blunder caused because of my dropping eyes and my body aching to lay in a deep slumber.
The wind…
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Nathaniel Orion G. K., March 2022
shrimpboys. crabgirls. is that anything
All things ORANGE…
Orange used to remind me of things that made my childhood fun…like the soda that coloured my tongue, the syrup on the ice but now it reminds me of the fire and pain that eats my country slowly.
The world’s burning, people are dying, animals becoming extinct, plants been uprooted like unwanted weed, and to be honest there is nothing in this world right now, that makes you feel safe. Believe me…
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somehow his talks about all the cravings i have had or will have...but mostly it talks about how i crave for the touch that i can never have the way i used to.
“You still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn’t satisfy you as much as it used to. You still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago.”
— Alida Nugent
hey, are you listening?
hey, are you listening ?
my walls keep on falling,
there’s a shadow on my head and I am afraid.
hey, are you listening ?
theres a hand on my window,
the floor keeps on shaking more and more and more…
hey, are you listening ?
I am running out of air,
I am one the floor, there’s a rattling in my bone.
hey, are you listening ?
I stopped breathing.
hey, are you…
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it starts by listening to the same playlist on repeat,
its Finneas, Dean Lewis, Banners, followed by Benjamin, Grey
and a touch of sugar, spice and everything that peirce my heart.
I find myself wondering if the poems say it out loud
or the songs add the missing harmony
sometimes I find it in lines traced on old yellow pages
and at others in the random flowers pressed between…
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is this what first hand tumblr experience looks like
Best Friends to Friends to
I went back to our old home, the dusty roads and broken gates, dying trees and new nests and the old shop light flickering. I stood by the park swing near the dry water fountain, is it strange that I can still hear mumbles and laughs in the air. I went down the road and saw the rusty red building, once called home because of all the highs and lows lived in it. I went in through the old gate…
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I Am Falling Again.
So, what do I do on my free days?
I wake up late, search for a cup of coffee,
Make myself a plate easy breakfast and then
It’s a day of selfcare.
I think of the books to read and shows to watch
I lay down on the grass and look at the sky.
I paint my nails and I curl my hair
Then bunch them and use a ribbon to tie.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and I can see
See a void…
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Just a girl who is going through anxiety and awkwardness. Walking on the roads of life, learning lessons, writing poetry, living stories, capturing moments and making weird, bad, and pathetic puns.
31 posts