⋆⭒˚.⋆ryn⋆⭒˚.⋆

what if I told you I was writing an original princess x jester love story and already have the first few chapters ready to publish?

my shadow follows me around 
          inky grasp constricting my breath 
          right when i think 
          i'm cured of her cruel shade.
          when I do manage to break away 
          from the patterns created by pain 
          and neglect 
          patterns i used to be unable to name 
          there is always someone itching, waiting 
          "you are too much"
          fine; i won't apologize for burning 
          but did you ever wonder, what if it was you?
          maybe it is you
          who is not enough for me.

honey-gold rays 
          resiliently fanning out against the shade 
          painting the world 
          in a citrine hue 
          warmth brushing my fingertips, 
          a breeze catching my hair like the needle of a compass 
          i can't help but marvel 
          as pools flow from my eyes, 
          with unknown springs
          when did we stop worshipping the sun
          and instead 
          take her glow for granted?

silver biting into clenched fists 
          blood-scorned symbolic promises 
          as if prophecy 
          wash it off, try again, start anew 
          silver biting into clenched fists 
          angry imprints corrupting 
          oaths made in the naivety of youth 
          wash it off, try again, start anew 
          silver patience melting away
          empty hands grasping 
          the passage of time and 
          unseen potential 
          hidden beneath the silvery gleam
          wash it off, try again, 
          start anew.

˙⋆✮will i finally be enough 
          when there are no scraps left to go around?
          tear at my flesh and 
          splinter my bones with your teeth 
          squeeze my vessels dry and use my ligaments to stitch your imperfections 
          i would be glad, if only to be used by you 
          carve out my ribcage and rinse the bones 
          to protect you own selfishly bleeding heart
          it is not enough 
          you are not satiated 
          but I am in pieces.˙⋆✮

..
          tuck me away into 
          honeysuckle-stained nights
          as i drown in a bubbling creek
          over worn-down stones 
          rushing to meet moss covered waters
          hide me away in the earth's cool embrace 
          and cover me with the weight of the soil's intentions
          let it all be damned as the world consumes me
          if i truly am as small as the
          universe would have me believe
          let it consume my soul 
          and swallow me completely 
          ..

what if I told you I had six things in my drafts? what if one was a completely original suspense/corrupt city/bungos stray dogs styled story? what if one was a collection of my poems? what if one was a multi-fandom oneshot compilation like 2014 wattpad? what if I told you three of them were my hero fics (one story, three books)? huh? what then?

decided to start graduate school on a random tuesday so y'all wish me luck

⋆⭒˚.⋆i am the root beneath the surface of the soil we walk across 
          
          i am the warmth left amongst the blankets after a restless night's sleep
          
          i am a child hiding behind her mother's legs on the first day of school, terrified of the unknown, of change 
          
          the stillness of the abandoned graveyard of the forgotten loved ones, yearning for remembrance 
          
          the hesitation of hovering over a still lake, wondering if disturbing the peace is worth satisfying one's own morbid curiosity 
          
          the sigh of relief when you beat the storm home by a millisecond, back against the door, counting your blessings 
          
          the feeling of fighting fist falling to one's side, not from victory, but from resilience running dry 
          
          the gasp for breath following strangled tears and muffled cries as you rebuild yourself for the fifth time this week
          
          i am a puzzle of every person i've touched, loved, and seen
          
          i am the sensations left behind, not given a second thought 
          
          such is the price we pay ⋆⭒˚.⋆

sobbing because i'm an adult who works full time and has a migraine rn when i could be sobbing because i'm an adult who doesn't work but writes all the time and has a migraine rn