No bestie he's NOT the one it was all just the unlit end of a sparkler :)

We aren't bare minimum bitches anymore, we're full fucking effort bitches bc we deserve it

Preach

And we still that way!

SLAY QUEEN. Honestly keep writing this shit bc you in the future will read it and be like "YES BESTIE SELF WORTH"

It was all you. Do not forget. Do not waste your petals on someone who complains about the time you take to make them, the wretchedness you crafted divinity from.

Listen-- (hi future me if you need a reminder of this)

The thorns were his own shortcomings.

The rose petals were your own magic. His thorns were acceptable, yours somehow were not. Be sharp babe, dull yourself for no one.

You crafted his antlers.

The lavender crown was made of your voice.

2 months later. We burn bestie, we burn.

I deserved to be loved even though my wounds still bleed and tear open. It's okay, I can just stitch them up again. I had to learn early. Sorry if it was an inconvenience to see the scars up close, and not only as an idea in your head. Sorry if the bloodstains were too much.

Because I am meant to be loved fully in practice and in effort.

Not only in theory and fantasy.

Because maybe, my kind of fire was only meant for those who had already burned alive, and breathed through the smoke.

So I arm myself with these blades made of fire and pain and divine love. And I seethe.

And then I am calm.

You don't deserve the privilege of my sunshine

If you cringe at the heat it brings.

I will not apologize for feeling, and once again hardening myself. I will not apologize for once again shielding and protecting myself.

I may be cut but I've been healing myself since childhood. I'll be okay. I have to be.

He truly “knew” anything.
“Please darling put it away” he said,
And how foolishly Her armed dropped to her side,
Right before he skinned her alive.

She paid the cost with her claws,
She blossomed until he complained of her vines,
He mended wounds already haphazardly bandaged,
Diminishing everything she'd already done.
“I know things are bad” the eagle said
To the nearly dead cat,
As if from his privileged view in the sky

To truly run on the ground
And catch ones own prey
Instead of stealing from others?
It appears he only loved her
To the extent
She was convenient for him.
Not all of us have wings
But god how he felt his own
Were bigger than hers
(They're not)
He’s icy but she’ll melt him for once

Let her to her pain,
Save her the guilt and embarrassment,

Or will he turn over and pull her close?
And act as her breath,
Her moonlit rain.

—-----------------------------------

He did not hold her.
He held his hand over her mouth
so he could have another
who's pain
He did
Not
Have
To deal with.

It's why she waits for him to be elsewhere,
Different space,
Asleep,

So she can once again be that faraway little girl,
Uncared for,
Hit,
Hurt,
Terrified of being seen in her pain,
Silencing herself
So quietly
You could not even hear her breathe.

If he wakes,
Will he pretend to be asleep?