London Bookshop

© P. Rajkai

The beauty of the Yellow

i hate to toot my own horn (**honks horn**), but this is important

so true tho

meirl

To the person reading this, I hope tonight treats you gently, and that tomorrow looks brighter. 

it’s extremely tiring to always be the one to text first

you forget you forget that you have the power to hurt me like no one else. you forget that you hold my heart in your hands; powerless in your grasp of love am I. conversations play on repeat in the background; we’ve run out of things to say. our minds wander aimlessly with boredom. the vibrant sparks of interest that once captured our souls has faded and fallen to dust. it is the muck stuck on our shoes we wipe off at the door in disgust. who are we now? do I even know you any more? you’ve made me question every interaction, every glance, every breath. was it real? or all just a lie? did you mean to deceive me? was this your plan all along? where do we go from here? do you still love me? i no longer feel the graze of your fingertips down my arm when you’d reach for my hand. you’re no longer curious of my most inner thoughts. perhaps you caught a glimpse and deemed them a waste of time. maybe this is all my fault. i’m a locked vault with the key long forgotten; you pried at my edges until weary. shoulders slumped and eyes glazed with exhaustion and sadness. you tried. is that more than what i can say of myself?

Really tho 😂