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Its.me.☆

Its.me.☆

Please excuse the awful punctuation 🥲

5
Writings
0
Followers
0
Following
Its.me.☆

Its.me.☆

Please excuse the awful punctuation 🥲

5
Writings
0
Followers
0
Following
Stepping Stone

Its.me.☆

1 min read

i stepped

I leapt

into the big world i went

I saw what i’d never of dreamt

A world left behind a chapter now closed

now i am stood here exposed

not knowing what to do

Not having even the slightest clue

but i Stepped

And i leapt

and back into the small world i went

Back to reality

Without informality

Back to the start....

Poetry

yet

Its.me.☆

1 min read

i dont have free write! So this is completely off topic from the Poem and follows an interesting structure..(school made me do it i swear)


romantic poetry!


Running through the trees

Doing as i please

Getting hot under the blazing summer breeze

Dusty daisies dancing around me

Feeling calm and free

Holly hocks being all that i can see

Sweet pink roses swirl

As i twirl and twirl

Whilst leaves curl...

Poetry

Sharp Stick

Its.me.☆

1 min read

‘Life is like a sharp stick’ she would say in a soothing voice whilst i cried over boys,tumbles and the relentless pressure of school i never knew what she meant until she wasnt there to say it anymore.Life is like a sharp stick its there to offer you amazing things like skewered fruit on sharp sticks but its also there to make you stronger to prod you when you are doubting yourself.


When we wer...

YA fiction

2
3
Who are you?

Its.me.☆

2 min read

I look in the mirror a small girl stands there her big soft brown eyes looking up at me as if i was an angel with a broken wing

“Who are you” i ask sounding shaky

“I’m you” she replys in a honeyed voice

I take a step back and then another and a few more she steps forward so we are a foot apart.

I crouch down, the ground feeling rough under my feet we are at eye level now taking in every detail of...

YA fiction

I Miss

Its.me.☆

1 min read

I miss


I miss when mirrors were used only to brush my teeth

And weren’t also used as a confidence thief


I miss when i could cry over a scratched knee

And not cry over criticising society


I miss when i could go to school and joke about

And not always be mentally burnt out


I miss when i didn’t care what people think

And now i constantly bethink


I miss when i would draw

And now that passion f...

Poetry

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