Untitled

Starry eyed

So we burst into colors, colors and carousels,
Fall head first like paper planes in playground games



I genuinely detest getting mad at people.

There’s a certain sort of being guilt ridden that washes over me.

It’s to the point where I deliberate whether I could have been more tolerant, if I was making sense, being illogical or childish. Why can’t being “angry” or “upset” be a simple emotion? Like it’s painted in black or white?

I can’t get mad with someone for long ever. It just takes a couple of minutes for it to dissipate, which by then I’ve probably done enough for it to have it’s repercussions.

01:07 am, by eelizabbethh
Notes