Sky's Pink As She Is Shy,

Me : Wow, I'm finally finding my flow. I love this quote, can't believe i wrote it.

Anxiety : Well, well. It's not that great. People think you're just a pretentious writer.

Me : No they don't. I actually write my own feelings, i think they relate to my words.

Anxiety : aww you wish. They hate you, and your art. Your writeups suck and your style is bad.

Me : No it isn't. Is it? IS IT? What if you're right? And what if I'm actually a bad writer. What if people actually think I'm pretentious. Yes anxiety, i guess you're right. Thank you, let me think about it all night, and get back to you.

fatima aamer bilal, from my heart has claws.

[text id: and if yearning had a shape, it would look awfully a lot like me.]

I wish

I wish I wrote the way I thought; Obsessively, Incessantly, With maddening hunger. I’d write to the point of suffocation. I’d write myself into nervouse breakdowns, Manuscripts spiralling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing. And I’d write about you a lot more than I should.

Benedict Smith; “I Wish I Wrote the Way I Thought”

Your eyes ignited the unexpected wildfires that my little cottage heart wasn't ready for. Now, i burn, my home burns and your eyes burn while watching everything else flaring into ashes.

Anneshwa Paul

“You have the blood of a poet. You have that and always will. You show, in the middle of savage things (that I like), the gentleness of your heart, that is so full of pain and light.”

— Federico García Lorca

I felt something unexplainable in my chest and there were flowers growing inside my veins. My heart stopped and that moment felt like eons. Eons full of ecstasy.

-anneshwa

the beauty of details

Anneshwa Paul / A melancholic December morning

A dream that burned so bright,

it lit up the corners of the gloomiest alleys.

A dream as bright as the first light,

and as genial as a warm hug.

A gentle touch,

a glacé remembrance

of the sunny woods.

- Anneshwa ✨