I've gained a newfound appreciation for myself. Because once upon a time there was a boy who loved me. I didn't love him. He wasn't the one. But somehow he did and to this day I'm still astonished. And in the same manner, I've gained a newfound hatred for myself: because I am too young. For this world, for my love, just too young. I know and understand the feeling all too well. I despise my age. I hate, in fact, that the older I get, the more I lust and learn. Now before I begin, let me say this: Bless me, your poet and let me go. I'll never let the exhaustion leave my breath; my roof of words will not keep rain or snow out of the house, or keep back Death, which I long. But Love, rising, curses as he sees me stir the fire, that I was bred a poet whose selfish trade it is to keep no Beauty to myself.

   Now Beauty. How do I describe that? You would think a name would be enough for you to understand but all the same, it clearly does little. According to Sherlock Holmes, "Beauty is a construct based entirely on childhood impressions, influences, and role models." The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes. Then how could I? Through all the pain I've endured, how could a sick a mind as mine recognize the obviousness of beauty? || There is no way for me to be able to to get you to believe what you are worth. This is the part in my soliloquy where shit gets a bit weird. You're reading this to yourself without the realization that I am talking to you directly, until now. Repeat after me and this more than once if you need to
I am a good person
I am powerful
I am incredible
I am important
I will survive this
I will be okay.
Everything will be ok.

Show me the man/with scars on the walls/of his mind from overthinking/cracks within his heart/from loving the wrong person/Pain attached to his soul/but I'll fight for the chance/to love him.

Dmitri Paschen, You are your strength; never lose it. ♥️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  He was only 3 years older than me, but even now, a sophomore, that's too large a difference.

  If nothing was standing in my way of loving him properly, I would not be able to make the first move at all! I would want to wait and see, see if he feels the same way, for him to approach me first, to see that brilliant blue sparkle in his eyes light up when he saw me. But no, of course I can't expect that much from him, could never. I wouldn't deserve him anyway.

   What drives me so lividly crazy about him?
Well I hardly think his personality or his face, smile, or eyes is the answer. Everything. Everything from those things to the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, or how he ruffles the curls in his messy brown hair when he's embarrassed. The awe I feel seeing him so set on being a hero when he knows heroes don't truly exist. He doesn't need to be one to all when he's already one to me. He's saved my heart and that's enough. But without him I cannot function properly, I'm broken. And I just wish, I pray that he would reciprocate my feelings.