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I’m different,
so I must be a loser.

sure.

salutations,

8 ÷ 2 = 0

7.8.10

insomnia is a boy

with melancholy eyes

like seas over which no one

has ever skimmed stones,

whose arms are rivulets

he wants to run over someone,

tracking the banks of their body

as if erosion was another word for desire.

if i say that i don't think i'm pretty, i'm looking for attention, and if i say yes, i'm a vain bitch. it's such a double standard in society; we tell girls that they should be confident and feel beautiful all the time, but then we tear down girls who are confident, out of jealousy and hate. i really don't get it.