The point.

The point in everything is nothing. Nothing to see. Nothing to prove. But, words. Proving your point can be said more delicately  by explaining your thoughts in the form of words. To me, poetry is the form of words. And this poetry does not have rhyming words but just meaningful ones.

The points are not the point. The point is poetry. – Allan Wolf

Inside me  

There’s a devil inside me.

It loves my thoughts.

It feeds on hurt, lies and failures.

Reminding me of my mistakes and my faults.

It makes my memories float in my head.

Rewind. Fast forward. Rewind.

Where is the pause button? Maybe broken.

There’s an angel inside me.

It screams positivity into me.

To make me forget about those pathetic people.

Saying that it loves me, that I’m amazing.

Telling me it’s okay to be wrong and that no one is better than me.

But, the truth is, it is the angel who is evil, not the devil.

Because  it’s all just connotations and assumptions.

The angel feeds on flattery and pretty lies.

But the devil feeds on the criticism and the ugly truth.




I’m just another teenage girl on the internet writing about world problems and interests. And by world, I mean mine. Not really. But, that seemed like a nice way to start a blog post. I feel like there are a lot of things we don’t talk about. I want to make this site for those things. What I write about is a secret for now, but not for later. ( And I promise I will write weekly instead of watching Pretty Little Liars or Gossip Girl or How I met Your Mother on Netflix or read ). I want this experience to be fun. I have a weird obsession with stars. Similarly, you might have weird obsessions too (It’s okay to be weird. I’m saying this with experience). See y’all soon. 🙂