❝𝙈𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙪𝙢....❞ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴʜɪɴᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴏᴋᴇɴ

" 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕 form of love . . . in which...i tell stories of love for i can not experience the love myself. or , in which i write poetry and prose.

august sipped away like a bottle of wine cause you were never mine

stitching storms into lovers' thighs (poetry #1 / prose #1 - 061120) © VANGOHS, 2017

[ poetry/short stories/collection ] ❝ you made the truth into what I lied, and I lied that I was beautiful ❞ . . . a collection of rainbows, theories, and dreams, of words faded around the edges with meanings that nothing could ever fade. a collection of seashells and nostalgia, sand filled baseball caps, scraped knees and bleeding hearts, colorless colors, stories of the lost and the found, and times when we are lost at sea. © 2021 @uranium-girl february 23, 2021 - march 18, 2021

He is the corpse of my existential avenue, creeping towards a clandestine affair. | Second Poetry Collection Trigger Warning: This book contains themes that may be distressing to some readers, including mental illness, trauma, grief, self-harm, and emotional abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

i look at the white bells hanging off green shanks - they are perfumed with death.

poems about life, love & identity.

"ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴs ᴛᴏ ᴜs, ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ ʙᴇsɪᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ ɴᴏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ, ʀɪɢʜᴛ ʏ/ɴ?" "ɪ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴇ! ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴀʟʟ, ɪᴍ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ!" "ʏᴇᴀʜ..." ➪ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ Gᴏᴊᴏ's ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴀʀᴄ (ᴄʜ 65-79) ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ Vᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ 0 ➪ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ/ɢᴏʀᴇ ➪ᴛʀᴀɢᴇᴅʏ