
põe as mãos no fogo, tenta voltar a lembrar-te o que é ser feliz. que as memórias de verão deixem de transformar o teu coração em lodo, que passes a acreditar que existe um futuro para ti



I think about coming back into your arms more than I think about destroying myself and that’s saying something
they repeat and repeat over and over again how it is wrong to only dream of the boys touching your skin because your soul should be added to the matter as well but i don’t want anyone inside parts of me i can’t even begin to explain myself
ponho sal nas minhas próprias feridas
angels are trying to kill me. it’s funny because i never thought a heavenly creature could acknowledge i am here and i exist. maybe i am a part of them and was taken away at birth by some unholy deeds my parents did that annoyed all the gods up there. maybe i am the best of angels and all others are dead jealous and doing everything possible to not let me go back to the skies. i hope some day i win them over

so sorry I am not a poet
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