The Thing About Greta Gerwig Is Shes Gonna Make A Movie About Daughters And Their Mothers And Im Gonna

monster that doesn’t know that it’s a monster because it’s never seen its own reflection, doesn’t understand why it’s feared. lonely creature only trying to love and be loved but it’s clumsy and doesn’t realize its power, doesn’t know it’s different. why don’t you love me. why are you scared of me. i’m just like you

- on grieving our past selves

doc luben “love letters or suicide notes”/ louise glück/ liv ullmann/ funeral-phoebe bridgers/ @mjalti/ would’ve, could’ve, should’ve- taylor swift/ @fairycosmos/ rob bresney/ @sea--shore/ class of 2013- mitski

A repost of some of my writing…

Keep reading

HEARTBEAT 

She’s cold and chilling to the bone 

Hollow inside and out 

Airy and spacious 

She keeps my heart slow 

Awake I am 

But drowsy eyelids blink and blink 

I am in a poisonous trap, 

A smooth rhythm that is coming to an end. 

Harmonious, a voice so sweet to the ears. 

An unforgettable smile, diamond eyes. 

She keeps my heart warm that the sun is jealous 

Of her. 

Come on now, 

Don’t you know any better than to be messing with fate? 

Tick, tick, tick. 

Time ignores your presence, it has no hold on you. 

You don’t believe in destiny. 

Now it’s time to make the change. 

Happy STS! ♥️ You can go back in time and give yourself one piece of writing advice. What is it?

If I could go back in time and give myself one piece of writing advice, it would have to be “Don’t compare yourself to other writers and go at your own pace.” I often feel like I shouldn’t even refer to myself as a writer but hearing this advice has really helped my confidence and understand that everyone is different and I should be happy to refer to myself as a writer.

KNITTED2

Boy you are caught in the threads of your own 

Thoughts. 

You can’t break through, no. 

You trip and stumble over these knitted paths, 

They lead you somewhere dark- somewhere distant. 

You’ve fallen down the rabbit hole with only the 

String as rope to get you out. 

You try to reach, but do you really? 

Excuses excuses are all that’s ever heard. 

Your ball of yarn is lost and you can’t even get out 

Of bed. 

KNITTED 

She had knit you a sweater, 

You wear it every day. 

You’ve had it sixteen years so- 

It’s to no surprise that you'd never throw it away. 

The threads follow you like a trail of shadows, 

It’s thin and damaged

It smells of hard work 

She had knit you a sweater, 

You wear it every day

You say it’s disgusting 

But you never cleaned it anyway. 

She had knit you a sweater, 

You hate it with such pain 

Thinking about... Grieving the undead.

WORDS FROM THE HALLWAY

She had spun herself a web- not one of lies nor of truth- 

Just a sticky situation to let others come into 

It’s quite strange, to be a bird like her

For words and songs aren’t always heard

She declares her faith to one admirer 

But the nest and the next she has no desire. 

Birds can’t speak but she’s a flyer.

Watch her dive, watch her drive, 

Watch her spin her web of crimes. 

Watch those tears fall down others' faces, 

Will she stop and slow her pace? 

Twig legs no longer there, 

She’s disgusted and caught in her hair. 

Dare she move once more? Fuck those birds and slam the door.

its mary shelley summer