✨reblog If You're Accepting Anonymous Asks About Anything✨

Found this on pinterest a while ago and thought I'd try writing something.

It was raining again.

The girl watched from her window, eyes dazed as she focused on the sounds. There had been a time when she would hope for the message to change, for a • to change into a –. She had learnt over time to stop being delusional; the rain always brought bad news. Today, it was simple: a one word sentence, the same word, over and over, warning her of something she could not escape.

•–• ••– –•

Run.

How was she supposed to run from the rain? To hide from the sky? She had thought it would be a good idea to learn Morse Code, it would have been a great addition to her resume once she would go to college. But she had never thought the rain would drive her crazy. The dip-drip-drop of the water and the clip-clip-clop on her window was slowly making her drown in madness. The chaos of this horrendous symphony was taking over her every thought in a mess of what used to be genius.

Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run.

She hated the rain, she had learned to fear its message for it was never wrong.

Pretty like spring

She was pretty.

Not pretty like a sunset or a painting,

Those were too bright and bold to ressemble her.

No, she was quiet like the night and her voice was melodious like the soft songs of birds in the early morning.

She had eyes the colour of the ocean, yet not quite exactly.

No, her eyes were the colour of a thunderstorm, expressive and powerful.

Her skin glowed in the sun, not perfect, not always smooth, but so beautiful.

Her smile was like a thousand stars, shining so bright even the sun was jealous.

She was a mystery, yet so very magnetic; walking away from her made no sense when her entire being promised an infinity of new beginnings.

She was immensely pretty, but not pretty like the sun or the moon.

She was pretty like spring, like the soft rays of sunshine that melted the winter's snow,

Like the small flowers that grew on every inch of grass and littered every garden.

She was pretty like butterflies and puppies,

The way you could never tear your eyes away.

And she did all that effortlessly.

Your father planted a tree and said, ‘As long as this tree is alive and healthy, so is my son.’ That was 200 years ago. Today, the tree still stands, defying time, but what of the son?

"How would you define love ?"

Love is like stargazing but choosing to look only at the one small star most people don't notice, because to you it is the one that shines the brightest.

Love is like drowning under water but doing it willingly if it means that the one person you care about will be able to breathe a moment longer.

Love is like being in a field of wildflowers but not picking any because you would rather let them grow and watch them bloom from afar rather than hold them close, knowing that they would die.

But love is also all the small things you do every day to help people. It is also noticing the small quirks someone has yet appreciating them even more for their uniqueness instead of judging them for it.

Love can come in many ways, shapes or forms, it can be grand but it can be small. It can be hidden and kept secret, or loud and bold.

Love doesn't have to be perfect or precise, it can be complicated and strange and unexpected, but it is always beautiful.

🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, and publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favourite follows (positivity is cool)🎶✨

Zombie by The Cranberries

505 by Arctic Monkeys

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High by Arctic Monkeys

Money, Money, Money by ABBA

The Archer by Taylor Swift

Time

If I were to ask you which feeling is worst,

What would you say?

Would you tell me how hate is such a vile host,

Or would you rather speak of sadness's tragedy?

Perhaps you'd even go as far as considering apathy.

But if I were to answer such a question,

I would say being forgotten.

Have you ever even thought

Of your memory being brought to a stop?

If people didn't recognize you today,

Would that be okay?

For what do humans aim to do,

Building and painting our world gray?

Leaving a trace so their memory won't fade away.

Can you pretend you wouldn't too,

If I threatened to forget you?

Death is far from the scariest,

But rather the thought of turning into nothing again,

For every person's memory

Never lasts for eternity.

You may be a genius, a scientist in all your glory,

But what good is it if you're not committed to history?

So if I were to ask you again what the worst feeling was,

Would you change your answer or accept the reality of time?

No happy ending this time

The thing about you,

Is that I truly loved you.

And the worst thing about it,

Is that I would forgive you in a heartbeat.

But you won't return, you made it clear.

You and me is a thing of the past,

You don't ever want to be seen near.

Bed time stories are meant to last,

But there is no happy ending for us this time.

I was the villain in your tale,

Yet you were the hero in mine.

I tried to forget you, but to no avail.

I don't want to give up on our fairytale.

Three wishes

If I found a magic lamp, or a fairy,

I already know what I would ask the genie.

I'd wish someone would look at me

Like they are mesmerized

By a sunset or a stary night.

I'd wish someone would care enough

To hold me when days are tough,

Yet still see me as a person,

And not just a burden.

I'd wish someone would help

Paint a smile on my face

And finally bring joy to this place.

But I have no genie, no magic wand or fairy,

No wishes left, no promises kept.

I have no flying carpet or broom,

No way to get to the moon,

So I sit, wide awake, at night,

Hoping it would all be alright.

But at the end of the day,

I'm all alone and you're far away.

“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you