*dear diary

when i think of june, i think of wispy streaks of lightning that cut through the sky like a knife slicing through fruit. that heavy, earthy, wet smell of grass. cool air against bare skin that makes your bones feel vulnerable. the richest greens, sweet and moist yellows, dark purples that swallow everything

i love the part of growth that allows you to look back on a previous period of your life and recognize that parts of it were unhealthy. something that felt so normal wasn’t in hindsight. you’re not supposed to feel that tired all the time. you’re not supposed to be treated like that.


If he said help me kill the president
I’d say he needs medicine
Sick of screaming let us in
The wires got the best of him

you know all those times someone when someone helped you or made you smile and you didn’t say anything? you’ve been that for other people. you’ve made someone smile. you’ve brightened someone’s day without realizing it. you do it all the time. you matter in ways you don’t even know.