sleepinglittlestar

[sleepinglittlestar]

this is so me

[sleepinglittlestar]

c'est beau les garçons quand ils sont gentils et droits, qu'ils sont vertueux même s'ils sont un peu maladroits <3

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[sleepinglittlestar]

february face

There's still blood on the sheets And frost on your cheeks I'm not sweet but still your favourite flavour In winter Careful babe there's ice on the trail you might slip and fall in love Kiss my frosted lips in the soothing silence of snow They won't know It's too cold outside To keep hiding you there Though in my verses I still can Don't tell them Only you can witness my gaze turn from dazzling to dead Lick the snowflakes off my lashes and Hold me close... Clouds look so clear in the gloom of your eyes Stormy nights are haunted by the sight Of your february face

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reluctantly left my band earlier this year; thought I might as well post my lyrics here since they've been left unused since. can you find the shakespeare reference between these lines?

[sleepinglittlestar]

+ björk 1996 photographed by takashi homma

[sleepinglittlestar]

night with my heavenly girls love you all <33

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#sofiacoppola #coquette #dollette #a24 #lanadelrey #marieantoinette #thevirginsuicides #luxlisbon #lisbonsisters #americanbeauty #lolita #ethereal #aphextwin #deftones #radiohead #threedaysgrace #gossipgirl #explore #fairy #fae #faerie #blackswan #ninasayers #aesthetic #fairycore #fairygrunge #viviennewestwood #pinterestgirl #diamondeyes #aroundthefur #katemoss #gilmoregirls #fionaapple #theblingring #tumblr

[sleepinglittlestar]

i wish i didn’t feel that much

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[sleepinglittlestar]

a quiet snowy day

It won’t stop. It will never stop, in fact. It’s not a coping mechanism. It’s very different, very far from that. Because when I’m her she’s just not me. Right now, with the lights on, all tucked in my bed reading my favorite books, nothing could make me guess what is waiting just there in the corner. Waiting patiently for me to turn my light off and blow my candles as easily as it is difficult to blow these thoughts away, she stares at me from the corner, next to the window. Then she slips under the sheets and gives me a big hug. The hug mom never gave me, the hug I desperately try to find in every man I come across but can never quite find. She knows how to do it. She’s me, that’s why. When there’s no more light, she can move within her own world, the world of shadows, the world in which I belong. At night, only. And all these strange memories come and go, the snowy days when I was five or eleven, maybe nine, it doesn’t matter. The music playing in my ears as I watch the white heavy blankets threaten to fall from the trees. My forehead glued to the window, cold. I can feel it, the cold. Soothing, numbing my head as my parents fight. My dad drives. I pass the songs on my mp3 player. My very first that I got for Christmas after negotiating for days. I always have to negotiate everything, even though I am five, or maybe eleven, or nine. I don’t remember. Does it matter? At that very moment time doesn’t exist. How dizzying. Little do I know, this feeling doesn’t last. And suddenly I’m thirteen, maybe seventeen or fifteen. She stopped hugging me. She’s not in the corner either. Why does it ache so much? Am I crying? I don’t even know. I must stop hearing, but covering my ears is not enough. I have to find that feeling again. The soft music of snowy days, in the car, melted into the backseat while my brand new mp3 player helps me put a melody on moms shouting and dads sighing. Yes. How beautiful. No time, no thoughts. Just me and the universe. Unfortunately, it is not as easy as it was. My breath either starts to accelerate or it just stops. It depends. My arms reach for my drawer. One hand hastily brews the trinkets in search of my razor-blade box as the other grabs my so-called “blood-cloth”. It has been the same one for quite a while now. All covered in brownish stains. My stuff is pretty easy to find. I think the cleaning lady already did, and probably told mom. But she never spoke to me about it, maybe she thinks I’m just being silly, exactly like when my teacher called her on this exact matter in high school, after my schoolmates complained, horrified, about the insufferable sight of my pale and thin butchered arms. I’m fine with it, it’s less real that way, all in my head, like the rest. My little secret. After that pathetic circus, it starts. Of course, then, it ends. I can breathe normally or I finally start breathing again, it depends. My skin is numb. This numbness travels straight to my brain. And here it is. Even better than an orgasm. Even better than my first rave, even better than my first time on molly. For a few seconds, a tiny grasp of a moment, I can relive it before starting to spiral again : a quiet snowy day. Tonight I’m twenty. I’m sure it doesn’t matter now.

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[sleepinglittlestar]

me? a boyfriend?

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[sleepinglittlestar]

[sleepinglittlestar]

you laugh like a little girl and inside you think like a martyr

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[sleepinglittlestar]

he used to hate on my favorite movies

so I hung posters of them all around my room

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[sleepinglittlestar]

romanticizing studying so I don’t f-ing kms

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[sleepinglittlestar]

What's your favorite movie/book genre?

I think.....FEMALE HYSTERIA

[sleepinglittlestar]

hot lonely girl halloween

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[sleepinglittlestar]

the industrial revolution and it’s consequences have been a disaster to the human race

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[sleepinglittlestar]

casual journaling sunday

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[sleepinglittlestar]

Wisteria