Ester > Recent Status Updates

love does not need to be tragic in order for it to be good. the truth is that i would much rather stir to the feeling of his lips meeting my forehead at 5:30 a.m. every morning for the next eighty odd years than settle for living an eternity alongside someone who can’t even be sure where he left his promises the night before.
- fuck those fairy tales.

in
the act
of
putting you
before
myself,
i
successfully
spat on
the grave dirt
of
every woman
whose
skin i wore
before
waking up
inside
this one.
- they didn’t deserve this.

didn’t
anyone ever
warn you
not to
try
to trick
a girl
who reads?
she’s
already
seen
everything.
- don’t try to waste your time again.

in this one, there are plenty of times when red becomes a little bit wolf after the beast comes for her with his snapping jaw too hard, too often.
- i don’t excuse her & you shouldn’t either.

This song - when I am dead my dearest- is Nora’s favorite poem.

No thank you John slays

know that anger has its limits
& act accordingly.

fire
was
made
to
bring
down
walls.
- he will try to divide us.

walls
should
only
be built
to keep out
flammable
tyrants.
- & we will ensure that he fails.

call me
bitch.

call me
villain.

call me
she-wolf.

call me
bad omen.

call me
your worst nightmare
wearing a
red-lipped smile.

- even better, call me by my name.

I am not
a keepsake
you can tuck on your
bookshelf
between
your bukowski & thoreau.

I am not
a dried daisy
you can close
in a shadowbox
& hang just
above your
sleeping head.

I am not
your kindness
participation
trophy
or anything
for you to
proudly own.

sometimes
friendship is the
motherfucking
prize,
so be grateful
i let you in
at all.
- THE FRIENDZONE DOESN’T EXIST.

“bitch,” he spits.
“witch,” he sneers.

& i say,
“actually, i’m both.”

dish:
woman

ingredients:
I. sugar
II. spite
III. everything not-so-nice

I love that the first book was dedicated to the boy who lived and this one is dedicated to the girl on fire.

And if the moon could talk
I wonder if he would tell the night
Just how lovely she is

make
no mistake:

there will
be dragons.

what they don’t
know is that

you will always
be ready with

coal wedged
between your lips

& a match poised
between your fingers.

here is the vital difference
between you:

they burn to kill,
but you burn to survive.

- may they never underestimate you again

just because
they don’t
hit you
doesn’t mean it
isn’t
abuse.

wouldn’t you
think it
a crime
to look up
at
the night sky
& tell
the stars
that they have
no sparkle?

guess what?
you shine
brighter
than all the
starlight
there has
ever been or ever
will be.

- emotional abuse is still abuse.

be a
mermaid.

be a mermaid
who doesn’t settle
for making a
small splash.

be a
mermaid
who doesn’t
stop until she makes
tidal waves.

be a
mermaid
who knows to
stop before
she devastates
the world with her
tsunamis.

- don’t allow the world to take your kindness.

you
are not
obligated
to have
children
just because
your body
has that
capability.

you
are so
so
so
much more
than the
possibility
of
children.

you give
birth
to oceans
every
single
day.

- your friendly neighborhood man-hater & child-eater.

trees
have words
the wind
cannot carry,
so we must
write
on them
their stories
until there are
none left
for them
to tell.

- write the story.

write the story.

push
your hands
into the dirtiest
parts of yourself.

take the
rot & decay
& turn it into
nourishment & life.

water it
& sing to it
& show it
sunlight.

grow a beautiful garden
from your aching
& teach yourself
how to thrive from it.

write your story.

they say
they only want
flowers
to grow from
my mouth,

so i will
look them
dead
in the
eye

as i
shove
soft petals past
my lips,

chew
with
my jaw
completely
unhinged,

& spit
them
down
at
their feet.

- i will never be your expectations of me.

Slay

OMG OMG OMG OMG
THIS IS WHERE IT’S FROM

i’m not scared
of the monsters

hidden underneath
my bed.

i’m much more scared
of the boys

with messy brown hair,
sleepy eyes,

& mouths
that only know

how to form
half-truths.


LOOOOOVE

OMG OMG OMG OMG
THIS IS WHERE IT’S FROM

i’m not scared
of the monsters

hidden underneath
my bed.

i’m much more scared
of the boys

with messy brown hair,
sleepy eyes,

& mouths
that only know

how to form
half-truths.


LOOOOOVE

Nah.. I liked this guy before but randomly hugging this girl you’re supposedly «just friends» with from behind and startling her so she drops a glass and you don’t apologize? And then when she cuts her hand picking up the shards you STILL DON’T APOLOGIZE? You just say «let me see» and «not so bad»?! Dude, it’s your fault! It’s bad.

This writing is so bad it’s insane

Mkey, I'm in love with this book

"I am very sorry for all the geographical inaccuracies. In my defense, I did it for the feels." I like this already

Not me thinking this was fantasy

I understand what people say about the writing. It feels like reading a voice message.

SO. DONE

I’m officially tired of this book