buttercup

i wonder what things would be like, in an alternate reality. where the buttercups bloomed like fields of gold. and i’d go to the ends of the earth just to make things right again, you know? because in this perfect world, i was raised to give a shit. to follow my dreams, regardless. to prick myself on thorns, and try my best, even when it hurt.

even when it was pointless, even when the whole plan was batshit insane. i’d melt in the moonlight, and wear short dresses on a cold winter’s day.

but, what you were thinking? because there’s no way you could you see a happy ending, from this edge of hell. that’s how this works, all right? you know that, just as well as me.

because in this house, everything just kinda wilts to nothing. even me. so i’ll let the pages crumple, let the old taylor swift songs lull me off to sleep, and the monster under the bed steal the breath right from out of my lungs. and who gives a shit, how things could have been?

because right now, honestly, none of it feels real.

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