ghostwriter-press

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what i wouldn’t give to be back at daunt books

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from the first day of autumn, 2022

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one of my absolute favourite poetry books of all time 💙

‘in the event this doesn’t fall apart’ by shannon lee barry

this book *will* make you fall in love with love

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― Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

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who decided it was wrong to be just like ‘the other girls’ anyway?

here’s a poem for the girls who grew up saying they weren’t like the other girls, but who turned out exactly the other girls, and finally realised that’s not a bad thing after all. ~

Not like the other girls

I’m not like the other girls, except, I really am.

You’ll never find me without a tote bag hanging from my right shoulder, my playlists are full of Phoebe Bridgers and Taylor Swift, I cried watching The Notebook and I laugh watching reruns of New Girl. I capture memories in polaroid pictures and write poetry in my Notes App at 3am. I daydream of Paris and New York and at night I make up scenarios in my head to fall asleep. I love autumn days spent at the pumpkin patch, and winter nights cosied up with a gingerbread hot chocolate. There’s an acoustic guitar in my room which I only sort of know how to play, and there’s posters hung up on my wall except now they’re all in frames. I blame my sadness on the solar system and whichever planet is in retrograde today. I check my horoscope on Cosmopolitan and I know what my angel numbers are trying to tell me, and there are crystals lined up on my window sill. I love bookstores and cafe dates, and art galleries and botanical gardens, and sunsets and the moon, and Harry Styles’ butterfly tattoo 

I am just like the other girls. And I love the other girls too.

follow on instagram @ ghostwriter.press

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a short poem about coming to the realisation that i may have adhd. it’s funny how your life can so quickly start to make sense...

i am getting to know myself through symptom lists and instagram infographics how strange it is to find myself amongst the medical terminology and textbook definitions; after a lifetime of uncertainty and self-doubt to find clarity in just four letters how freeing it is to alleviate the years of guilt and layers of blame and to finally understand

written by ghostwriter.press also posted on instagram please do not copy or repost my poetry

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🌲 the embers 🌲 you are all-consuming like flames to wood and suddenly i am a forest fire. before you can even smell the smoke each and every branch is ablaze, and the embers only aid the spread there is not enough time to evacuate. soon, all that’s left is ashes and dust

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original poetry by ghostwriter.press do not copy or repost my poetry or images ghostwriter.press on instagram

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journal entry – january 1st 2022

Taken from my journal.

01.01.2022

I want to get back into writing; I suppose the only way to do that is to just… write. So here it is.

It’s the first day of 2022, or I suppose it’s the evening really, 22:22 to be exact. The last two years have been bizarre, to say the least. Living through a pandemic in your twenties is not a vibe. It has been confusing, uncertain, at times it’s been lonely, and without a doubt frustrating. Right now, it feels never-ending.

I don’t want it to take over my life, so I want to claim back the things I feel like I’m missing out on or running out of time for – a ridiculous thing to feel at the age of twenty-two, but this pandemic has really proven that you really have no clue, or control over, what is round the corner. So, I will at least do what I can with the things I can control.

I am going to start writing again.

~

also available to read on wordpress