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like little rivers flowing d o w n my long legs curving round my curves and back again to do a double take of my own body’s breath taking beauty ~

this is a generation of the loss of concentration drinking booze at any sign of a celebration strangers bombard me with pictures of pathetic erections questioning captions of attraction self love is at a RISK of eviction they question but don’t have time for an explanation so if they ask “are you okay?” say that you’re fine to save the eruption because any interaction that’s longer than a fraction is way too much emotion for them

what would you like to do after uni? i’m sick and tired of hearing that shit because why should i wait till i get a bit of paper to start achieving the dreams of my life? i am a writer i always have been and i always will be not a trophy wife i can have every job in the world if i choose i buy myself flowers and go on dates alone fuck stereotypes being a writer is the greatest excuse sorry i can’t make it to your neighbour’s sister’s dog’s birthday... because i am a writer an

three and a half small dents in my mothers old ring green aventurine held in tight by tiny pesky clasps clasps that will clasp onto anything that even looks at them extracting strands of my blonde and brown curls like a fishing hook out of a fish’s mouth bent in from the times I enthusiastically slammed my palms onto surfaces or fell forwards or backwards or sideways roller skating the rings took the damage of my falls a few rings took too much damage and snapped under the pr

girls at school would be covered in the thickest layer of orange conscious that the scars from anxiety habits of picking would peek through the pound concealer but this is no peter piper picked a peck of picked peppers this is georgia and zara and molly comparing the sizes of their breasts in the pe changing rooms egging on the asmtha from the victoria secret perfume that has been sprayed 19 times to mask the scent of the boys who played rugby 37 minutes ago this is a young

fingertips caressing a brand new book slowly teasing the cover away like it’s a strip tease this very normal moment of buying a new book feels like a naughty secret you have books at home that plead and beg to be read but this new book has a spine that caves in under your touch peeling that front cover back and inhaling its intoxicating addictive scent but that fresh new book isn’t as sexy when you get it home opening its pages on a freshly made bed and reading every word of

new year new me but it’s mid november and i wrote the calendar floating on a cloud but i’m drowning in water goosebumps greet me as i peer into a mirror i’m crying while smiling because everything has become clearer this may sound stupid but i think i’ve found nirvana this is what you’re gifted for only good karma

some people dislike the wind the fresh air blowing mother nature into you like it’s crying out to be noticed it’s begging you to just stop take a deep breath and appreciate mother nature the green specks of grass dancing in the air the daisy chains on display the slight breeze blowing through your hair picking up your baggy clothes allowing for fresh air the grass a soft landing you lay with daffodils surrounding whilst you sing of happy days

breathe in and appreciate the sunshine each breath will allow each worry to become obsolete the sadness gained through the cold winter nights will vanish as you take in the light \ | / - - 0 - - / | \

this is an empty corner ---------> a potential home for a displaced spider a sharp edge to a much bigger picture use this corner as a starting piece my empty corner is a safe haven for dust cobwebs will cling and remain untouched i don’t need a cluttered room so please be patient for changes will come soon

when i look out of the window i don’t just see the trees i see the homes of the leaves the nature and the bees when i look out of the window i don’t just see the sea i see the waves meeting the sand the seaweed and the fish families when i look out of the window i don’t just see the moon i see the golden gleaming light illuminating my room when i look out of the window i long for more nature instead of manmade buildings and instead of manmade structures

leaving your home during winter is a bigger shock to the system than a cold shower sharp inhales of a frosty dagger your fingers twitching before becoming a cold rigid number the first three minutes is full of fucking shits and regrets plastic bags clinging to the skin cutting off circulation from the hand within tucking your chin and your mouth and your nose behind a scarf that your grandma chose your spine curving round with every shiver it will shrink eyes watering every t

the clouds the rain the water and the skies the animals are migrating they’re moving inside the rivers are overflowing due to the thunder and the lightning the downpour of rain is soaking the world but affecting nothing i dislike that complaints run strong around this natural task the flowers are bathing luxuriously whilst you are running and whimpering with your complaints i fear you are uneducated with mother nature’s gifts for the rain that surrounds us is making you miffe

shining through the window shining on the grass it shines on a road it shines on a path it’s so powerful it blinds you because it’s the brightest light on earth we depend on it like one another like a brother or a daughter a father or a son a mother or a sister an auntie or the sun 0 0 _|_ _|_ | | /\ /\

what you see is autumn... the leaves and sticks -stuck- between my rollerskates the fresh breeze clinging to my face hands clasped into a fist deep inside my pockets hurrying home craving tea and biscuits

red is the colour of power an anger built up inside if i get frustrated never would i lie running outside after i have cried into the darkness nothing to do but sigh rain refreshes me any time of day if i become stressed no to a sunny day