The Midnight Readers discussion
✧ Personal Book Nooks
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saturn is done with AP exams and is going to fight god

that's what my grandmother calls me jajsdkfjaldj

it's just my brain"
oh ok"
that statement was adressed to my english teacher lm..."
theres nothing to be sorry for
it makes sense lol
sometimes they can be the worst :')

it's just my brain"
oh ok"
..."
they really can :.))

so the thing is
i really love english as a subject
but my teacher makes it awful

that's what my grandmother calls me jajsdkfjaldj"
wutt reallyy

that's what my grandmother calls me jajsdkfjaldj"
wutt reallyy"
yes lolll

oop-

lol


i simply won't be in the nooks

goodbye <3

NOO
AHH
IM CRYING-

Understandable
I hope you’re back soon <3

This is probably my fault 🤦♀️
I sincerely apologize for any drama I’ve caused.
Anyway, I hope you know this is a safe space and you’re welcome back anytime <3

oh ok, have a nice break :)
and for when you do come back
hello welcome back, we missed you :DDD

it's the biggest newspaper in the world
how tf am i gonna get published? idk
but i really wanna
i love the editorial im writing

it's the biggest newspaper in the world
how tf am i gonna get published? idk
but i really wanna
i love the editorial im writing"
that would be SO COOL omg


lmzo yes

no one in my district has ever gotten published in nyt
they have in the dallas morning news and stuff, but that's only the biggest newspaper in texas, not the whole world
i see a lot of potential in mine but my writing skills are trash :/

absolutely!!! i love poetry<3

i do! i've got a fantasy book that is still very much in the works, and i write poetry as well :D

oh yeahhh i have to go visit everyone's nooks :DDD

you're breaking me again
(how many times has it been?)
you pull me in all directions
which is ironic,
funny if it wasn't so sad
because oh
all i want is to be near you
i want to lie in the quiet of early morning and watch the light
dance over the warmth of your skin
i want to take you to the spot deep in the forest that's always breathed of you
the place where the silver dew on the moss matches the light your eyes and where the pines smell impossibly of you
i want to have enough time
to memorize you, everything you do, the way you breathe and move and think
i want to tell you how captivating you are,
how riveting,
how fascinating
and at the end of it all
i want us to do all the things I've always known we could do
i won't get that, though, will i?
you've never been generous
and still, we are pulled
i can feel it all breaking

i'll brush his hand two,
three times if i'm feeling confident
and it means nothing
nothing aside from the sudden blur in my head
and the heat that flushes my face.
it is a pastime,
an activity,
an adventure.
which is kind of terrible, i know.
it means nothing.
i miss valuable touch
i miss how the slightest brush of your arm
would consume me for days
how every flicker of your eyes was rich,
luxurious,
haunting.
this touch is fun,
fleeting,
a risk and a game.
i enjoy it,
but it means nothing.
perhaps i do not miss your touch,
but instead your meaning.

they are about the same person lmao
i have entirely too much poetry about them
it's just my brain"
oh ok"
that statement was adressed to my english teacher lmao
sorry