.

my life is just [dyes hair] [unprocessed childhood trauma] [eats pasta] [writes poetry in the notes app] [looks at photos of grassy plains] [eats pasta]

i just want a kinder world than this

I miss you, self.

8 in the evening, we were headed home. From the steering wheel, your hand found mine, rested on my thigh.

“Are you afraid of being alone?”

Your eyes spoke of words I longed for but you were asking for just a glass of water, my darling, I am an ocean and I didn’t think you were ready for me.

Four days on a friendly farm

wish i left earlier