devastateddaisy.blogspot.com
Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl: To Do
http://devastateddaisy.blogspot.com/2013/12/to-do.html
Monday, December 23, 2013. Hating yourself isn't poetry, you know. But it's a lot easier to hate than love and it's a lot easier to be crazy than sane or maybe it's easier to be sane than crazy, I dunno. Girls, stop highlighting your hair the color of suicide,. And boys, stop falling asleep to netflix. It's bad for your eyes. Everyone, stop wearing so much death. Colors are cool. Dye your hair blue and get some new piercings. (maybe don't do the last one, I did that and my mom was angry.). And thank you ...
devastateddaisy.blogspot.com
Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl: February 2015
http://devastateddaisy.blogspot.com/2015_02_01_archive.html
Tuesday, February 10, 2015. A post for Pretty Girls. Lungs tight, ears ringing, throat burning, I'm drowning. Drowning from the tears of the one who despises me the most. Drowning because I did it, I finally did it. I told her something I've been choking back since the 10th grade, something I've only ever told 2 people. I cried and cried and cried and expected her to do the same. But she wasn't surprised, not one bit. She wasn't shocked or concerned or confused. She told me I was pretty. Girl is a greaser.
gracekellly.blogspot.com
Grace Kelly: November 2013
http://gracekellly.blogspot.com/2013_11_01_archive.html
I tried to be like Grace Kelly but all her looks were too sad. Sunday, November 17, 2013. Stuck in a box. Do you ever feel like you’re just watching? Watching the world go by. Watching the sunrise and the sunset. Watching the seasons change. Watching people live their lives while you just stare, emotionless, as though you don’t even exist. It’s like I’m stuck behind glass SCREAMING. I feel like a piece of paper that can’t move past the fact that it can never go back to being a tree. I have dreams and ide...
gracekellly.blogspot.com
Grace Kelly: Second Chances
http://gracekellly.blogspot.com/2014/03/second-chances.html
I tried to be like Grace Kelly but all her looks were too sad. Tuesday, March 11, 2014. I’ve never really been afraid of dying until now. Death has always been a metaphor for broken hearts and dirty dishes. But the truth is I am terrified of dying, maybe because a week ago death was all too real for me. How many moments in life can you look back and say, “That’s when it all changed”? I can honestly say March 2, 2014 is a day I will never forget. But it all started the night of February 27. Thank you for ...
elizabethwoolridgegrantblog.blogspot.com
Elizabeth Woolridge Grant: I remember
http://elizabethwoolridgegrantblog.blogspot.com/2014/01/i-remember-i-remember-thinking-birds.html
Young and Gettin it. Sunday, January 5, 2014. I remember thinking birds and bees were just birds and bees. And screwing was a toolbox term. I remember when your name use to come up on my phone. Lying in that hotel room on the right bedside and you smelled of oak. I remember my recess lady Mrs. O. She was so scary and always looked like a man. I remember Breaking your heart. Crying so hard on that staircase. Longer and harder than ever. How embarrassing I cried that hard for you. Pluto should be a planet.
elizabethwoolridgegrantblog.blogspot.com
Elizabeth Woolridge Grant: August 2013
http://elizabethwoolridgegrantblog.blogspot.com/2013_08_01_archive.html
Young and Gettin it. Saturday, August 31, 2013. I have to make symmetrical patterns with every. Spoonful of ice cream I. Eat, which Im just. Guessing I average about 7 scoops a day as of. Late I like actually talking about things that. Matter, filling my brain with more ideas than. Just "I am here". I wonder just about everything. You can think of, what stars can I connect in my. Head to make shapes and just how far that star. Is and why it shines brighter than the rest and. I am one of a kind. Trust Iss...
gracekellly.blogspot.com
Grace Kelly: Air France
http://gracekellly.blogspot.com/2014/01/air-france.html
I tried to be like Grace Kelly but all her looks were too sad. Thursday, January 9, 2014. My plane landed on August 23. In the Paris, France airport. It was a bit crowded when the 70 or so tourists unloaded the plane all in search of the tour guide. Little did we know our tour guide was simply an artist in disguise. The Phantom never stood a chance. He was a musical genius who was misunderstood and apparently sane means more to relationships than love these days. Somehow I think I was found. Paris is whe...
charlesdarnell36.blogspot.com
Charles Darnell: let's be childish
http://charlesdarnell36.blogspot.com/2015/02/lets-be-childish.html
8220;He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” ― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights. Tuesday, February 24, 2015. We make out at his place on the weekend but you'll never see us holding hands in the street on a tuesday. we're in love with the way each other looks and the way we make each other laugh and the way that we kiss and we're in love with our little coffee dates and car rides but we're not in love. Darling, let's be childish. February 25, 2015 at 10:23 PM.
charlesdarnell36.blogspot.com
Charles Darnell: 🚬🔪💀follow for more soft grunge💀🔪🚬
http://charlesdarnell36.blogspot.com/2015/01/follow-for-more-soft-grunge.html
8220;He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” ― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights. Friday, January 23, 2015. 🚬🔪💀follow for more soft grunge💀🔪🚬. She stood like a ghost against the blacklight of 3am. Blood dripping from her mouth and nose. Wearing shoes too big and too high to walk in. And she was trying too damn hard. She was trying too damn hard. The aesthetic she was aiming for was too dirty. And the blood was fake and everyone knew it. Tacked to a tree.
charlesdarnell36.blogspot.com
Charles Darnell: 4/25/15 - 5/17/15
http://charlesdarnell36.blogspot.com/2015/05/42515-51715_22.html
8220;He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” ― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights. Friday, May 22, 2015. I saw that new picture. The one where you had your arms around her. Your head in her shoulder. You only ever held me like that in the dark. With the door locked. In the middle of the night. But there you are. Out in public in the light of day. And you love her. You said you loved me. Not three weeks before they took this photo. Was i not enough?
