buttercup's home

 " If you only shine light on your flaws; all your perfects will dim." - All Your Perfects, Colleen Hoover.

afraid of falling concrete placement is what you're calling  to all the ghosts you've met I stand here on this broken pavement wishing to freeze to death late night memories of us snuggled up in each other I take in your warmth  for its the sole source of my nourishment in steams it leaves from my soul; the sadness  comes back again  as soon as you're gone  I'll stand on this pavement till the last of me remains  waiting for you to come  and take me in your warm embrace

stuttering words from a calloused mouth Vivid darkness all the ghosts; they shout  in the void as they burn the voices echo this mind, paranoid pulling the wildlings with a harness cutting core with a stiletto these tales are they all in my head  or am I really dead? this; this is the end. 

there we were  sitting under the tuscan sky laughing at jokes none of us understand I stroked your hair  and you tugged on my heart strings  you held my hand in yours and looked me in the eye as you told me you love it was almost like a whisper it all felt like warm honey  you saw through my soul you read me like an open book while you kept reaching out to the most hidden parts of me  inside the deepest, darkest corners of my soul 'don't drown' I warned you it's dark in there "I'd travel the darkest of places that ever cease to exist just to fine me" and so I let you drown' I didn't stop you you had reached too far to come back now but I could still see you there you were making peace with my demons  you are like a scent a fragrance something like a flower a whiff of which makes my mind go hazy something, I still can't forget  you come out and hold me tight  as you screamed into my ears  "I FOUND YOU" you made it  you foun

Hey, why don’t you smile a little? Hey, why don’t you laugh more? Why do you laugh say so much ? Dude, you speak so much stop it you are annoying. You look like a mess, you look nice, hey that guy is staring at you, wear something nice, dont sit like that. You eat like a pig. You eat so little. Eat more. Eat less. You are fat. You are so skinny. You are rude. You are such a bitch etc etc shit. Well, you know what You and your opinions/ comments/ “ just saying” can go eff themselves cuz I don’t give a rat’s fart about it. I am just another teenage girl dealing with her hormones and stuff I am afraid and maybe not comfortable or anything to speak about, I have my own battles to fight so people who have to say crap to me can go dump themselves in their own shit cuz I honestly neither have time nor energy deal with anything more. Period. I am just another teenage girl who needs support sometimes, but won’t ever say it cuz duh, who would? I am just another teenage girl who needs

"In the race of getting through life, we seldom forget to truly live it in its true essence."  how often do we question life? how often do we wonder if we really are living the way we dream of living?  Probably every time when we try to sleep because it's only then that we are left alone with our thoughts.  So, is life a journey, a road, a song, a melody, a tale, or a narrative?  I'd say it's everything which exists between nothingness and fulfilment.  To exist is to be a part of the universe, but to live is to make the universe a part of you.  To love and to laugh, to be kind and hopeful, to have faith and zest even in the darkest of times is to be human; and that's when the universe becomes a part of your soul, a part of you.  We might think our life isn't perfect because it isn't the way we want it to be, but is that really the truth?  Maybe it is, maybe it isn't.  What is perfect then?  Someone once told me, 'it doesn't have

'   Constant commotion of tales unheard Like boiling water bursting out The tales; Of dread and grief in shades of blue Heart's pale stained in hue Oh life of mine A mirage through my eyes A mirage; Of lilac skies covering dull days Of whorls constricted in a hollow pit With twists of turns With each turn forms a tale anew A tale unheard, uncanny Screaming into the void Only to deflect with the walls standing tall Echoes remain And they fall right back where they were Forming a tale, yet again Seasons come, seasons go Winter whispers Spring sings Fall falls Summer sulks Soul sweeps The petals and the leaves The wind and the dust All fall into the pit to rust Incarnating a tale once more That's how it benignness The pain An 'apparent segment of life' If only it were However, a ray Projects from a point and never ends I fathom, The end of it would be with the end of me The tales, the seasons, the pain Are all a part of this catastrophe.