“Mais, Vrai, J'ai Trop Pleuré! Les Aubes Sont Navrantes (But, Truly, I Have Wept Too Much! The Dawns

When my memory of you seems to fade

And I ask, "Who are we?"

Read to me

The letters I wrote for you

Tell me the stories behind them

When my memory of you seems to fade

Play me our favorite songs

And sing me ours

Remind me about our love

The way you have always reminded me

When my memory of you seems to fade

And I don't recognize you

Remind me of,

The evening that rained like the world was ending

Ask me 36 questions

Look me in the eye and demand the 4 minutes I rain-checked on.

When my memory of you seems to fade

And I flinch away from your touch

Hold my hand in yours tighter

Let the warmth of your hand

Unfreeze my memories of you that I dearly cherish.

Doesn't a word look weird when we stare at it long enough? Doesn't the alphabet look slightly meaningless when we write it over and over again? Here's one: CLING C-LING, C-L-ING, C-L-I-NG, C-L-I-N-G. Does this make sense? It doesn't sound like a word the more you say it. It doesn't look like a word the more you write it. The curves and strokes, dots and dash!

Isn't it how the name of the people you love changes? At some point, it stops being a name, a word that belongs to them. It becomes a feeling that belongs to you. It stops sounding like a word or a random string of letters. It becomes a string of feelings you cling to when life falls apart. Their name on your phone screen stops looking like a word. Every notification and phone call conjures an image of them looking at you and smiling before you can even look at it twice. That particular string of curves and strokes, dots and dash Once belonged to them and is now beloved by you Which you randomly write in the air because it gives you comfort.

Sometimes we take names for granted without realizing the power it holds. When all it takes is that one word to appear on your screen to get you through another tiring day.

ENCHANTED 💫

My past took me for granted

Then you held my hand and enchanted.

I realised magic isn't about pixie dust

But in the heart of people we trust.

(04.11.20)

Starry Night ⭐

Lying down on our grassy lawn,

Stars arranged like they're drawn,

Little fingers intertwined,

Playing on loop Seeing blind.

Then, you stand up to light your cigar,

That's when I see a shooting star.

I see your face through lighters flame,

And realize both are the same.

(04.12.20)

Attempt at a prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting 's December prompts.

Shit Slytherins Say: #254

Ok no offense, but some of us *looks pointedly at self in mirror* need to fucking chill

maybe the rain is there to teach us that falling is beautiful. some people are a map when you didn’t realize you were lost. you’re the ache that never left, the first line of an unfinished song. it doesn’t have to be a poem to be poetry.. have you seen how carefully the light can touch your face? and even though I’m an abandoned house in search of a ghost, I don’t need anything from you. I want everything with you.

you're not hard to love. you were only made to feel that way by someone who didn't know how.

Hufflepuff: alright we need a plan. Does anyone have any ideas?

Slytherin: *raises hand*

Hufflepuff: that DOESN’T involve murder

Slytherin: *slowly lowers hand*

ONLY THING I'll be thinking about for next few business days 

when stephen chbosky wrote "we accept the love we think we deserve" and hanya yanagihara wrote "x = x, he thinks. x = x, x = x."

did someone say "hay"? 👀