I Never Feel Like I Have Enough Time To Do Anything. I Have So Much To Learn And To Accomplish But I

I caught a glimpse of her dark soul and a taste of her poisoned lips ever since then, my soul has been mourning her absence and crying for more

my dark and lone mind

Irreplaceable

I miss you like the plants miss to be showered by the sun’s rays during the night

I miss you like the desert misses the rain during the dry season

I miss you like a child misses their mother in their absence

Occasionally, in the midst of the night I’m able to hear your cries or the sounds of your whimpering when you’d been hurt

I recall the misery in your eyes the day you returned home with blood dripping from your head the voices of agony haunt me when the moon replaces the sun at night

The image of the twinkle in your baby like moonlight eyes will eternally remain in my mind, body and soul

You’ve enchanted my shattered black heart with your stardust and even when it turns to nothing but ashes, it’ll forever remain besotted by you

You are irreplaceable

*listens to straight people for 5 mins*

me:

do u ever like feel so absurdly reluctant to do things. like it ain’t even procrastination or laziness anymore u just physically and mentally can’t bring yourself to do anything. u really, really just wanna binge watch youtube until your mind numbs completely or lie on the floor and stare into the abyss. and it’s not like u don’t have “motivation” or anything or even that u don’t want to do it, it’s just. u can’t. idk how ppl just. Do Things. get up and go at it. i have to have an entire existential crisis and like, watch a goddamn motivational film or something first before i do the smallest thing. and it’s june for fuck’s sake.

i don't pay attention to the world ending. it has ended for me many times and began again in the morning.

― Nayyirah Waheed, Salt

I didn’t know this is what love looks like: truth, acceptance, devotion, you were my moonlight. I love like no other, honey gold eyes. My Muse. I wanna steal the sky for you, give you the world. I dream of you and of what it could’ve been. I’m proud of you, though. There’s a lot to learn from you, my muse, the living embodiment of my mantra, but I was too naive to see it. I wasn’t ready for you. At least I was impartial enough to see you deserve better. Low vibrational, I was I was. So brief and short lived by God, did you mark me. This loss is so familiar, must’ve lasted eons,hell how I long for you, I’ll long for you for more eons. To mould our universes into one. Your honey gold eyes forever ingrained in my mind, you were my Frida I see myself in you, my mantra, embodiment of femininity, sapphic love and much more. Forever believe we could’ve been so much more than we could ever possibly imagine. you and I, a statement. A revolution like no other, it tasted like one the very first time our lips met, honey gold eyes. I could swear even Cupid envied us. I envy anyone who is lucky enough to lay their eyes on your honey gold eyes. These are words I never thought I could write, feelings I never thought I could feel. I long for you with every breath I take. My honey gold eyes.

Have you ever heard the story of the glowing planet?

Some thought that it was a wandering star with gigantic craters, that revealed the light at its innermost core.

Others assumed that its shell had cracked and searing lava was making its way across the surface; always flowing, always glowing.

There were scientists that hypothesised about burning gas pits or bioluminesent monsters roaming the planet’s rocky exterior.  

And then there were the poets and the dreamers, who pondered that maybe, just maybe, the planet was at the middle of its own infinitesimal galaxy, drawing in tiny stars and gathering their beauty in fiery clusters.

                               ＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

But only some of the bravest explorers, brazen enough to get too close, could ever ascertain the truth behind the sparkling planet.

Could see that for all the assumptions of bioluminescence it wasn’t the indwelling creatures that lightened up the vast darkness surrounding them, but that they had caught the lights;

perhaps the radiant sunlight of their solar system itself or maybe the electric currents crackling in their atmosphere.

The explorers bemoaned that these creatures might never know the beauty that their masterpiece had gifted to the universe.

But when the speckled lights reflected in the many eyes of the species passing through the void, the younglings excitedly pointing to the shapes they thought to see in them, or a lost ship was able to resume its route because of this landmark, they knew, the galaxy was richer for it.

      - A love letter to Planet Earth

“Eye contact is a dangerous, dangerous thing. But lovely. God, so lovely.”

— Hedonist Poet

Come dwell with me underneath these pink skies, hold my hand, and I will hold your heart.

e.v.e.