You're So Pretty I Want To Tie You To My Bed And Use A Wand On You Until You've Drooled All Over The

Romanticizing your life sounds so stupid but it will help you cope. Taking extra time to make a yummie coffee in the morning, sitting outide observing the wind in the trees, writing poems, going to old book stores, watching your childhood favourite movies, listening to romantic jazz, writing in a coffee shop, making sure you have moody lighting in your room, putting on asmr rooms as a background noise while you work. It's not a solution, but it makes things a bit better.

I want to be her protector.

I want my arms to be a safe place she can collapse into at the end of the day. I want my presence to be grounding, to offer support even in silence. I want to offer her comfort in every way I possibly could. I want to make her favourite food when she’s too tired, or just because. I want to refill her water bottle so she doesn’t have to get up. I want to take care of her in the smallest and simplest ways.

I want to pour all my love into her and make sure she always feels loved and wanted.

need a lesbian to have faux sympathy for me ughh like "aww is it too much baby?" then kiss me on the forehead and start fucking me harder

searching for healing through drawing my body

about the project :: all the drawings

"But how did you know I was a sub?" Oh, sweetheart.

I look at you like I want to eat you whole and defile every inch of you, and you look at me with little stars in your eyes. I talk to you like you're a wounded puppy, and you nod along to every word I say. I let my finger trace down your cheek while I give you a proud smile, and you lean into my touch like you'll cry without it.

I just want to keep you in my pocket forever.

The legacies people leave behind in you.

My handwriting is the same style as the teacher’s who I had when I was nine. I’m now twenty one and he’s been dead eight years but my i’s still curve the same way as his.

I watched the last season of a TV show recently but I started it with my friend in high school. We haven’t spoken in four years.

I make lentil soup through the recipe my gran gave me.

I curl my hair the way my best friend showed me.

I learned to love books because my father loved them first.

How terrifying, how excruciatingly painful to acknowledge this. That I am a jigsaw puzzle of everyone I have briefly known and loved. I carry them on with me even if I don’t know it. How beautiful.

If she's an overthinker it means she needs to be fucked until her brain turns off

i want to feel

to feel wanted

to feel loved

to feel like i’m interesting

i wanna feel like i matter

not a chore

but a choice

i wanna be loved