>Hannah
The daily, inconclusive accounts of my cerebrum in a comprehensible format.
>Pictures of Me
>Writing
>About Me
>Cat
• Ask me anything
Wrestled TheAngels
The daily, inconclusive accounts of my cerebrum in a comprehensible format.
>Pictures of Me
>Writing
>About Me
>Cat
• Ask me anything
Wrestled TheAngels
Things that will never impress me
- party stories
- party stories
- party stories
- how drunk you got
- how high you got
- who was at that party
- what happened at that party
- party stories
Tell me about some good music you’re listening to at the moment, your beliefs, your opinions, maybe even about an abnormally delicious burger you had. That’s what I care about.
It’s so scary to put my current standardized tests scores aside the requirements of the school I dream about. It’s so scary to know that I could end up being very close, but not quite close enough.
Run-on-sentence Type Love
It’s the freckles on his shoulders, and the way he takes the first bite of a cheeseburger that make my insides respond in constant longing for greedy amounts of time to be spent by his side.
not enough coffee
not enough words
too soft my alarm clock
too noisy the birds
too achy my spine
too sore to My touch
will 9 passing hours
do myself enough
?
Beaten - broken - losing
Lying - waiting - oozing
And now - I’m the - Villain?
Simply - for - bruising.
Tangles of Time and Fate Pt. 1
I transmit happiness back in time, to tell her that everything turns out right, that pain is worthwhile, and lonely is fine. And that you’ll get to love him soon.
If I could’ve whispered into my younger ears, “Just wait as you are for three, long years.” Maybe I would’ve looked ahead with vigor.
But this was a surprise I loved.
Capital You
A powdered rain,
Vitamin sane,
You are all of an anchor,
And more.
Redwood flakes,
Cracks in place,
A settling scenery
Sings what’s in store.
Sinking in bed.
Words stripped of lead.
Summing You up,
Makes my head sore.
Best Year
One year ago at the stroke of midnight I was running through the freezing streets of my neighborhood banging pots and pans by tradition with my best friend. Bruised by summer lust, burnt by autumn bullshit, and numbed by winter’s routine, I inwardly committed to a 2012 on my own.
It would have been cool to fast forward exactly a year, to see myself sloppily receiving my first New Year’s kiss from my other half.
Every night is a movie. Tonight, in a flurry of snow and music and friends, was the first one of 2013. Here’s to 365 more.
