bipandawrites

[bipandawrites]

Soul She always tells me I have a melancholic soul. The type that was born nostalgic. Longing for a past I’ve never known. She sees me while I read of times long before mine as if they were yesterday, As if history books were diary entries. My soul so deeply bonded with what is no more.

[bipandawrites]

“Mold me with your hands,” I say. “Shape me to perfection, I wish to be perfect in your eyes“ “Oh little one,” they whisper. “Don’t you know, you’ll always be perfect to me.”

[bipandawrites]

Rain Sometimes I feel like being rain. I’d love to shower you with my love, To be the water that falls on your lashes. To give you sweet little kisses, At the same time I’m causing floods. Bringing my pain and bestowing it upon somebody else. How I’d love to be the little drops of water that you fall asleep to. How I wish to just pour myself out. How I’d love to be the rain you love, How I’d love to be the rain you’re scared of. And people would sing in my rain And people would drown in my rain And it would just be me, Raining until the sun comes up. I could be drizzle or flood. People could pray for me or beg me to leave. But how I’d love to be your rain, How id love to drizzle in your face.

[bipandawrites]

Llevo tanto tiempo parada en el mismo lugar. Siempre árido, siempre solo, siempre gris. Tengo puestos zapatos tres tallas más pequeños. Pesados como piedra Con la planta deshecha. Mis pies llenos de heridas, cansados y callosos sostienen mi cuerpo y mis tristezas. Cuantas ganas de desatarme las agujetas que ya están deshechas Quitarme los zapatos y echarme a volar. Sin miedos ni dolor Cuantas ganas de dejar atrás todo lo que me ata y me pesa Y mientras sueño en volar permanezco en el mismo frío lugar Puedo no estar sola pero estoy en soledad Sigo soñando en libertad Y a veces me intento liberar pero con las manos atadas no es una fácil hazaña Termino patéticamente tirada Mordiendo las ya rotas agujetas que aún me atan a mi tristeza Puede que pase el tiempo y lo vuelva a intentar. Me encontrarán algunas veces tirada en el suelo otra vez Pero los zapatos pesados y deshechos resultan ser más fuertes que yo. Y entonces permaneceré atada a mi tristeza, rodeada del frío y la soledad Pasará de vez en cuando el sol a traerme compañía, pero siempre se irá tan rápido como llego Pasará la lluvia a limpiarme y saciarme la sed, para desaparecer horas después y regresar cuando le plazca. Me acompaña el pesar de los zapatos que me mantienen alerta y sujeta a la realidad con el dolor que causan. El dormir no viene fácil, parada y adolorida, con el corazón pesado y las llagas abiertas. Un día maravilloso me hago de la perfecta idea Crecer un par de alas Alas fuertes y bellas, que sin importar el peso de los zapatos, me lleven tan lejos. Que me lleven al sol para calentar mi corazón. Pondré entonces todo mi esfuerzo y energía en crecer mis alas Lo pienso y las siento salir de mi espalda Estoy tan feliz de poder escapar, que me olvidó del dolor de los zapatos. Entonces me daré cuenta que las alas no salieron y lloraré ríos hasta casi ahogarme Pero, ¿había logrado desaparecer el dolor que tanto me pesa? Y caeré en cuenta Que si imagino con todas mis fuerzas la libertad, el dolor no es tan fuerte. Aún me encontrarán parada en el mismo lugar, los zapatos ahora cuatro tallas más pequeños. Y me verán llorar y gemir del dolor. Pero de vez en cuando me mirarán con una sonrisa gigante viendo hacia el cielo, soñando con volar tan alto como ave al vuelo, sintiendo el placebo calor del sol que solo existe en mi mente. Por esos por esos instantes me verán feliz Espero así me recuerden Soñando en volar, con una sonrisa radiante y el corazón caliente. -RGH

[bipandawrites]

I run into the night

I keep myself inside my mind,

I fill my empty brain with stories,

So that there’s no space left.

To keep the nagging feeling away.

I suppose it’s just as exhausting,

To run away.

But until I can breath properly,

Till I can speak my own words,

I’ll keep myself busy with the works of others.

So I’m thankful for Austen, Dickinson and Wilde.

For making the lonely hours not so sad.

And if home doesn’t feel like home,

Then I shall find comfort between words and worlds.

- RGH

[bipandawrites]

The feminine urge to say “have you no compassion for my poor nerves�� every time something goes wrong with my life

[bipandawrites]

Pet names in Spanish

To all my dear fanfic writers: I know you try your best, but PLEASE get someone to check your work if you’re writing in Spanish.

Anyways here’s a list of pet names in Spanish with the gender distinctions and everything. If you need help with your fics hit me up!

Corazón - heart (this one’s really cute)

Querida (f) / Querido (m) - dear

Amada (f) / Amado (m) - loved one

Amor - love

Mi amor - my love

Keep reading

[bipandawrites]

“Sometimes I miss the comfort of my own sadness

The way it would hold me and never let go

Follow me wherever I’d go

Yet I’m glad we broke it off

Because its comfort wasn’t real at all

And now I’m silly and giddy and happy and me.

Yes I’m free,

But sometimes I miss the comfort of my own sadness.

And at nights the nostalgia arrives,

Because I’m alone with my thoughts.

And sadness isn’t holding me anymore.

And as good as happy feels it tends to go away at nights,

And it’s harder to reach.

Sadness was always there

And sometimes I go back to her.

Yes, I miss the comfort of my sadness

But I’m so glad I choose happy this time.”

-RGH

[bipandawrites]

You feel it in your stomach first, it drops. It moves to your hands which start shaking, the tension in your jaw, your wobbly legs. You realized you just said something wrong, and you know how this goes too well for your liking. Your brain can’t stop throwing words at you: “That was so weird, you, you are so weird,” you can’t make it stop. And you just wish you could exist without feeling so out of place, strange, awkward, you want to stop being so awkward.

[bipandawrites]

Do you ever see someone and wonder what it’s like to be loved by them?

[bipandawrites]

Do you know that feeling you get when you really want something, and you know you’re gonna get it someday, but the waiting is torture, and you just want it and you want it now? The longing, missing something, someone you’ve never known but still hurt for.

[bipandawrites]

“It’s a late night And yet again I find myself longing for the love of a stranger I just want to love someone so badly Cherish them, care for them God, how I want to be loved Seen, trusted, held Even lusted after To the person whose name I do not know yet Just know that I want to hold you in my arms Kiss your face, that I do not know. Whoever you are just know that I love you so”

— RGH

[bipandawrites]

There’s nothing like eating a nice warm bowl of soup while being sad

[bipandawrites]

Rambles

I may not have

A big bed,

Or a big room.

But I have a big imagination,

And a big heart.

I may not have

Tons of money,

Or tons of fans.

But I have

Tons of music,

And tons of art.

I may not

Be perfect,

But I am,

Who I am,

And that is perfectly fine.

Late night thoughts turned into a poem, hope you like it :)

[bipandawrites]

I Hope It’s Not Me

Mommy, how can I tell you,

I don’t wanna live?

This world is too cruel for me.

I’ve fallen in the hands of mischief.

Even though I’m in your arms,

I’m not the child you conceived.

Mommy, how can I tell you,

Your baby isn’t here?

That she’s long gone,

And not who she used to be.

Mommy, how can I tell you,

I’m not me?

This girl that weeps at night,

Isn’t who you conceived.

Mommy, how can I tell you,

This isn’t your child?

This is a monster,

I hope it’s not me...

-Huezzo, 2020

[bipandawrites]

Hiii!

I’m Gina, and my pronouns are she/her 💕

This is my writing side blog but you can find me at my main @bipanda