TWO YEARS OF FOLKLORE - JULY 24 2020
Stars drawn around scars. A cardigan that still bears the scent of loss twenty years later. Battleships sinking into the ocean, down, down, down. The tree swing in the woods of my childhood. Hushed tones of “let’s run away” and never doing it. The sun drenched month of August, sipped away like a bottle of wine. A mirrored disco ball hovering above a dance floor. A whiskey bottle beckoning. Hands held through plastic. A single thread that, for better or for worse, ties you to your fate.
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ur government assigned gender for the day is the first thing u get when u click this link to a randomised wikipedia article. NO REROLLS . i am the trollsteineggje mountain in norway
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making friends is hard having friends is hard talking to people is hard waking up is hard getting out of bed is hard being a human is hard being alive is hard
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did you guys see the poem from a couple of days ago in poetry dot org’s daily poem it was so good and a treat to read
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i know im autistic as hell but my god i hate you empty conversation i hate you words losing your their meaning i hate you aestheticized morality/political justice
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a girl could tell me anything and i would believe them
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HAPPY JULY 9th AKA LAST KISS DAY TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE.
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Why you gotta be so mean?
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the 1 is the saddest song on folklore
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