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Youth
Young, reckless, wild, and free
That’s what I’m supposed to be
Parties, hangovers, and coming home late at night
That’s what they say youth is all about
Impatient, medicated, and losing my patience
Tired of being treated as another mentally insane cases
Take another pill, medicate the broken soul
Knowing **** well that I’ll never be whole
~ A.S 11.10.19 ~
There are a few things I have by my bed at night except for a nightlight
Benzodiazepines, amphetamines, antidepressants, and a crafting knife
It might sound a bit ****** up, but sweetheart, that’s the story of my life
To stay alive I sold my soul and paid a high price
~ A.S 02.05.20 ~
I don't just Love music, It's the only reason I have survived
I eat, sleep and breathe music, It keeps me alive
If you ask me, there's like a 99% chance I'm listening to it
I'm even listening to music while writing this ****
If I have to choose between music and you
It was nice knowing you, my dude
~ A.S 08.05.20 ~
I want to hold her in my arms until she forgets what loneliness feels like.
I want to hold her heart like the lonely autumn trees hold the fragility of clinging leaves.
The traces of my lips on her skin reach deep inside her soul and transform an abandoned house into a loving home.
The weather hasn’t been the same ever since the sun decided to impersonate the warmth of her aura.
It doesn’t matter which book I’m reading; her body will always be the scripture that my hands believe in.
I found myself longing to love and appreciate her with the kind of passion she’s never felt before.
Loving her is like looking at a shattered mirror and clearly seeing every bit of the broken reflection.
The weather hasn’t been the same ever since the sun decided to impersonate the warmth of her aura.
It doesn’t matter which book I’ll be reading; her love will always be the scripture that my heart believes in.
I want to hold her in my arms until she remembers what happiness feels like.
Reminds me of the song 'Syndicate' by The Fray.
Gliding on the Isis, Dad at the castle
Not hindered by the usual watern bustle
Summer is come, my sister’s a flower
Unfurling to sweet sixteen’s tune in this hour
Dog roses and nettles, poplar and willow
Leaning over the bow’s bitter pillow
The world’s upside down – Didn’t need the self-posed illusion
To prove it. Elderflower, wine, and face masks are an odd infusion
But I lie, steampunk Docs in first position, stilled in time
Immortalising it in few photos and poor rhyme
Poor as my experiences are rich, but capturing to perfection
The aimlessness of mine, of our, wonderings’, wanderings’, their recollection.
The Magdalen Boathouse opened today, at last! My father treated us to a punting expedition this afternoon. I've loved this activity since I can remember, it is a quintessentially Oxfordian thing to do. It feels like a bit of normality is coming back, but guiltily, I kind of liked having the river to myself.
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