PetaWent
Winter. My breath under the lights blinking on and off (just like me). I look down at my hands. I never know what to do with them. Put them in my empty pockets, but for a dried up yellow petal and old letters.
This time of the year makes me want to call up every single person in my phone and tell them I am sorry for how everything turned out.
My eyes are tired but I can't stop moving. Like ill sink like a rock otherwise.
There is a distinct difference between how you see yourself and how other people see you. And it only shows itself at the most awkward of times.
Snowflakes kissing my face.
You catch yourself in a moment where its all gonna be okay no matter how it turns out. Its rare. Its a collectors card. Keep it in mint condition cause you might never see another one. There are braintrusts and men in labcoats deep inside mountain labs that will make sure they stay rare. And that's okay. Because then they mean more.
This time of the year makes me want to call up every single person in my phone and tell them I am sorry for how everything turned out.
My eyes are tired but I can't stop moving. Like ill sink like a rock otherwise.
There is a distinct difference between how you see yourself and how other people see you. And it only shows itself at the most awkward of times.
Snowflakes kissing my face.
You catch yourself in a moment where its all gonna be okay no matter how it turns out. Its rare. Its a collectors card. Keep it in mint condition cause you might never see another one. There are braintrusts and men in labcoats deep inside mountain labs that will make sure they stay rare. And that's okay. Because then they mean more.