A poem about prejudice.

Call this whatever you like. A diary. A journal. An excuse to write something. Follow me on my journey through rare updates about what i've been up too.

A short story about aromanticism. || TRIGGER WARNING: SLIGHT MENTIONS OF SUICIDE/DEPRESSION ||

"What's wrong with you?" he asked me. There that sentence hung in the air between us, and I remember now how I wasn't looking at him. How instead I looked up at the clouds that seemed to run faster than my thoughts. "Yeah, there's a word for it," I think I said. - lowercase intended. cover drawn by me.