Apperance

PLAY TRACK: PRETTY GIRLS

    If I was smaller and cuter, would you consider me? Maybe it’s stupid, maybe it’s cruel, but I’ve begun to grow tired of this. My only hope is that one day my physical self will no longer deter you from allowing yourself to be loved by me.

Love is a strong word, but I want to care for you. I want to soak your tears into my skin and count the lashes on your eyes. You remind me so much of a dog, and I want to own you.

Like a pet, like a lover, like you’re the dearest thing to me. Let me put out my smokes on you and brand myself onto you. I don’t want you to forget the sensation.

I want to treat you right. I want to make you happy. I want to know what it feels like to have your eyes glued onto mine, two spheres unable to trail anywhere else.

Is that selfish of me to want? You will never see me for who I am, rather what I present physically, and that’s okay. I’ve learned to accept that, to accept this.

You make me cry, and I like it.

It makes me feel so real.

You made me feel real.

Feliz Birthday!!11!!111!

PLAY TRACK: UNTIL ITS TIME FOR YOU TO GO

50 years old
21 years old

A day apart.

You’re not so young anymore, are you?

No, I’ve grown older, haven’t I?

Yes, but that is a part of life. You will grow and grow and grow until one day it just all stops.

Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh. I don’t think I can write anymore for this page.

That’s okay, you don’t have to.

But I need to.

You don’t. You can always close your eyes and start again tomorrow.

Am I really allowed to?

Mhm, like you wouldn’t even believe. So go ahead, get some rest.

Ahh. Okay. Good night.

Sweet Dreams, Vee.

You too, 6V.

Not Real>>>?:""_+}???

PLAY TRACK: LA MER

    You are not real. You are simply the parts of my mind that wander when it slips away from my watchful eyes. Eagerly, it cups your hands, and all I can do is stare and watch as these false scenarios unfold. Before I know it, my mind has influenced my heart to pump sweet rushes of red that flood my cheeks and ears, causing my lungs to expand slowly and my fingertips to move across this keyboard.

    The memory of a person who does not exist drives me mad. Whoever you are, or whoever you may be, I already know that I love you. This tortures me. This tortures me with a feeling that suffocates me. I am sick of the things that have not happened yet. All the fights we will have and all the moments I pray you will run to my side again to make things right. Cradling your cheeks and holding your face like you are the most precious thing in existence, pressing my lips against your tear-stained face. I want to lick them off, tasting the saltiness of your pain. To remind me that your feelings are real, to remind me that you are real, to remind me that I never want to make you cry, if not out of pleasure.

    But we all know that is impossible. I will cry and so will you, but I hope you can dive into me like water and press your body into my shoulder and vanish like the sugar in my tea. I do not need you soft and easy. I just need you exactly as you are.

Ugh, this is getting strange, isn’t it?

    You are not real, but I want to tangle with you and fall into you and feel all of you. Your breath, your skin, your hands, all its divots and curves and edges, your hair, your heart. I want to feel it all. You are special in my heart, to the person who does not exist. I can love you without knowing you because I can love me. I am simply extending my heart to you. We will lie on a cold wooden floor, and one heart is mine and two will belong to you. I cannot control this level of yearning. I just love so much, so completely.

    I do not want this to be me creating an idealized version or mold for you to fit into. I just know that whatever quirks or habits you may have, or will have, or even lose, I want the privilege to love it all as it is, not as whatever you may think I want it to be.

    I think all I ask is that you love me the same. The same as I love you, the same as I think of you, stranger. Allow me to be real to you, wherever you are.