SEVENTEEN
hold me while you can
Hold me, because there is no
guarantee that this will all last.
What happens when I begin
to lose the hint of your kiss?
When I can no longer retrace
your fingertips?
― Lost, even though I know
exactly how I got where I am.
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𐎀 Maybe a six? I really loved Wattpad around 2016/17, but it's definitely went down hill in the passing years. There's so much that has changed within the entirety of Wattpad that just takes away from the reasons why I loved it to begin with. Plus, most of my online friends, with a few exceptions, no longer use the app, so it gets lonely on here at times.
May
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𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 ➙ 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺
PoetryMELANCHOLY | Melancholy drips from my fingertips. Here, I will speak the sadness, the heartache, and the decaying for all the unspoken. Perhaps under this layer of melancholy, the girl I once knew still exists. First poetry collection i...
