Wanted — A girl with long, blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Her skins must be flawless and porcelain in the winter, but darkly tanned in the summer.
Her waist must be small, and there should be no excess fat on any part of her body. But she must be strong and athletic.
She should be polite and kind, always listening to what I have to say. She should never deny me anything. But she should never be a pushover and should stand up for what she believes in. She should never cry when I insult her.
She should always be beautiful, dressed and done up to impress me. But she must believe me when I tell her that she looks more beautiful naturally.
She must be okay with it when I would like to bend her over and take her at my whim, and she should never deny me that right. She should be okay with it when I want to be with another girl, but she should have no right to see another man. She would deserve the names I call her.
She must be out there somewhere, but I can’t understand why other women laugh in mirth when they read my list.
her soul aches — violent and helpless — for the company of one who has long since abandoned her
i had to write a shakepeare sonnet for british lit!!! and a lot of sonnets are about overly romanticized love in a positive light and that’s cool but i wanted to write one about it in a negative light
asdfg it was pretty hard and i’m definitely not a poet but i’m kind of proud of it???
i don’t normally ask for feedback on things but i’d really like it if you could send me a message or something and tell me what you thought about this. i kind of skipped ahead in the story (i’m bad at linear writing) because i was talking to my mom to fish for some emotion and it helped me write this. i wanted it to be honest and not fake like a lot of talk about self harm and suicide can be. it’s really, really important to both me and the story that this part is written correctly
it’s okay to write bad things (aka this) because if you dont get the bad stuff out then youll never have room for the good stuff
bad metaphors ahoy
two contrasting thoughts
sophie vs. peter at two very different points in their lives
he painted with the stars, using the deep blues and vibrant yellows and clear whites as the paint for his brush. he smudged galaxies and created black holes and molded new constellations purely on accident. swirls intertwined and turned into one another to form treasures that were far more beautiful than what he had started with.
i want to kiss your lips and fix the broken fragments of your battered soul
I wish I could understand why you are the way that you are.
I wish I could understand the things that make you falter and the things that make you cry and the things that scare you. I wish I could understand why you flinch when someone reaches for your hand or why you can’t express yourself.
I wish I could understand you without words, the barrier between us when I am speechless for once in my life and you refuse to communicate. I wish I could understand the reasons that you do things. I wish I could understand everything about you and love and life.
