#iridescentpuppy

[poetpup]

found on pintrest! :33

[poetpup]

just the sweetest 🍭🐾🐁

[poetpup]

Unicorns are real.

i wake up inside a fog,

like someone else’s dream is draped across my skin.

the walls don’t breathe.

the mirror doesn’t blink.

and i

i am a ghost who’s forgotten how to haunt.

everything feels like paper.

thin.

quiet.

not-quite-there.

and i press my hands against the air

just to see if it will hold me.

people say

be real

be present

be you

but i don’t know what me means

on days where my thoughts stretch too loud,

then shrink into static

that hums behind my eyes.

sometimes, i think

maybe i was born in the wrong story.

not made for flesh and bone and

broken mornings.

maybe i was meant to be

a unicorn.

not the glitter kind.

not the plastic toy on a child’s shelf.

but something ancient,

soft and golden,

with eyes full of galaxies and

a heart untouched by gravity.

a creature that doesn’t carry

sorrow like a second skin.

a creature too magical to

hurt.

i want to live in a meadow where

no one asks if i’m okay

because i already am.

where i don’t need to explain

why my soul feels like it’s peeling.

where i am made of light,

not questions.

they tell me unicorns aren’t real.

but neither am i, some days.

so maybe we belong to each other.

maybe i am just an echo

of something purer

something that ran from this world

before it could be touched.

i don’t want to die.

i just want to be

elsewhere.

elsewhen.

unreachable by sharp things.

somewhere

where the only thing that matters

is the wind through my mane

and the stars in my spine.

where i am magic,

not madness.

where i am wonder,

not worry.

where i don’t have to remember

how to be human.

just how to be

free.

because unicorns are real.

and so am i

on the days i choose to believe.

the unicorn in question.. ! ♡

[poetpup]

I Always Get What I Want (Eventually…)💗🧁🩰🐾✨

______๑♡⁠๑____________๑♡⁠๑____________๑♡⁠๑______

“no.”

that’s what he says the first time i ask.

“you haven’t earned it.”

i pout. i cross my arms. i stomp my foot like the spoiled little princess i am.

“that’s not fair,” i whimper, crawling into his lap anyway. “i’ve been good…”

i kiss his neck. bat my lashes. grind the tiniest bit against his thigh.

“brat,” he mutters. but his hands grip my hips like he’s seconds from giving in.

and he does. of course he does.

because i’m not just a brat.

i’m his brat.

his sweet doll. his spoiled puppy. his soft little thing with glossy lips and needy eyes.

so when he finally gives me what i want,

when he holds me down and fills me like i’ve been begging for,

i smile through the whimpers.

because i always get what i want.

even if he makes me cry for it first.

👑💞 “good girls don’t beg like that,” he says.but he still gives it to me anyway.

[poetpup]

If you asked,

I would.

Not because I am yours,

but because I have never belonged anywhere else.

Because the air is thinner when you are not beside me,

and I have spent too long

learning how to breathe in the absence of you.

If you set the world on fire,

I would hold the match steady.

Not because you told me to,

but because I have already memorized the weight of your hands,

the way they shake when you say, "Let’s go."

And I have always been the one who answers,

"Okay."

If I could burn it all to the ground,

it would not be for ruin,

not for revenge,

but for the sake of the road ahead

ash beneath our feet,

nothing left to turn back to.

And I would salt the earth behind us,

because some things should never grow again.

[poetpup]

something about these three...

[poetpup]

[poetpup]

They call her Lonely Girl,

as if the name was stitched into her skin.

As if the silence that follows her down hallways

has a voice, and it whispers lonely, lonely,

like wind through an empty room.

She dreams with her eyes open,

not of castles or crowns,

but of hooves—silver, shining

of a horn like moonlight spiraled

from her forehead.

A unicorn.

Real,

but not here.

Not in this place

where her voice is swallowed,

where her shoulders bend

under the weight of everything

they hand her

deadlines, expectations,

invisible rules written in

someone else’s handwriting.

No one sees her cracking.

She doesn’t shatter loud enough.

She just folds inward,

a paper girl in a rainstorm.

All she wants

is out.

Out of a world that calls her

only when it needs something.

Out of the coldness of crowded rooms

that forget her name.

She wants to gallop into a sky

that believes in her,

where she can be mythical

not broken, not burdened.

Just a girl,

who isn’t lonely

in a world that finally

knows how to hold her.

[poetpup]

🍭🍭🐾🦄

[poetpup]

i don't care if im spoiled. i deserve to get whatever i want, and im not saying it because you told me too but..

pretty please!!

[poetpup]

I am so quiet,

people forget I enter rooms.

I don’t remind them.

I don’t need to.

But give me a pen,

and suddenly

things start happening

like rain realizing it’s a storm,

or breath turning into a scream

before anyone hears it.

It’s not just writing.

It’s stepping out of my body,

watching myself from across the room,

fingers twitching

like they belong to someone else,

like maybe I do too.

I am always the writer.

Never the written.

I name things

but no one names me.

I give voice

but mine stays folded

in a quiet drawer.

Today

just for a moment

I want to be on the other end of the paper.

I want to live inside someone else’s metaphor,

to be the line they hesitate over,

the feeling they almost understand.

I want to be

the ache

someone else can’t explain

so they turn me into a poem.

Their poem.

Just for a day,

I don’t want to be the poet.

I want to be loved

like a sentence someone can’t stop rereading.

[poetpup]

pinned intro !!

✨💗 welcome to the inside of my velvet mouth 💗✨

♡⸝⸝⸝🍓𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝒾𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝑒𝓍𝓎 𝓈𝓊𝑔𝒶𝓇 𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂🍓♡⸝⸝⸝

ʚ 𝓲’𝓶 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 ·⭑ 19 · pansexual gender-fluid girlboy · puppygirl poet ꒰ᐢ｡•༝•｡ᐢ꒱ ⸝⸝⸝♡̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝♡̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷̷⸝⸝⸝

🎀i’m made of tulle, trauma, and obsessive love. i don’t feel real. i think i was some kind of star-being, or dream, or forgotten prayer before this body happened. i just got… stuck.🎀

🌸💿 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒹𝑜𝓁𝓁𝓈, 𝓁𝓊𝓈𝓉 & 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓈 💿🌸

💒🧸your favorite puppygirl dreamdoll princess 💒🧸

the one with honey eyes & bite marks, crying glitter on the floor, begging to be kept. just a dream wearing a collar. a wet kiss with a sugar knife. a velvet scream. my writing is a soul-bleed. it’s soft + slutty. sacred + sick. it’s everything i can’t say unless i’m gagged in metaphor.

⛧🐶🐾 • ⛧🐶🐾 • ⛧🐶🐾 • ⛧🐶🐾 • ⛧🐶🐾 •

🩵collared + adored + delusional + deeply in love with being ruined gently. i’m sfw/nsfw friendly & i write everything like it’s my last heartbreak.🩵

i write erotic, overly emotional, neo-soul poetry soaked in nostalgia, obsession, and desperate pretty love. i write because it’s not a choice. it’s breath. it’s blood. it’s the only thing that holds me down to this floating place i live in.

writing is how i make sense of the world when it feels like god left me in a dollhouse to rot. ꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡

🍰 💕 𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓇𝓎 𝒷𝓁𝑒𝑒𝒹𝓈 𝓅𝒾𝓃𝓀 💕 🍰 ୨୧

💌 disorders: bipolar, dpdr, paranoia, anxiety.

💌 i live in unreality. but i love like it’s life or death.

💌 i dissociate so much i think i’m a lucid hallucination.

💌 i need to believe something magical is real. or else i’ll disappear.

💌 i live in a haze of mirrors + glitter + heartbreak + hunger.

💌 obsessive romanticism + compulsive fantasy

🍬🌈🧚‍♀️💗🦄🫧🍭i do believe in being loved like a thing that bleeds pretty. 🍬🌈🧚‍♀️💗🦄🫧🍭

✞🩸🕯️⛓️

here you’ll find: fairy-sick eroticism

💘 SFW/NSFW puppygirl princess scenarios

💘 messy blog posts that feel like torn diary pages

💘 neosoul heartbreaks wrapped in lace

💘

sometimes i’m just sobbing in your inbox like a confused loveletter. i’m either babydoll dirty or babydoll divine. ⛓️🕯️🩸✞

𖦹 interests:

♡ glittery breakdowns

♡ neosoul, old soul, soft soul

♡ choking on love

♡ pastel collars + mean hands

♡ diaries that read like exorcisms

♡ sleepy kisses & leash pulls

♡ being your spoiled little thing

♡ silk collars & sticker earrings

♡ romantic humiliation

♡ handwritten poetry on receipts

♡ being someone’s little lap thing after a long day

♡ the feeling of not knowing if you’re in love or haunted

♡ rose quartz spells & old soul music

♡ being dressed up like a doll just to be undressed

♡ 2016 softgrunge fairycore tumblr

♡ licking the palm of someone i shouldn’t trust

♡ pretending my trauma is a love song

♡ poetic emotional sadgirl sexcore

♡ degradation with love

♡ laying in lace on the bathroom floor like it’s a stage

♡˗ˏˋ 🧁 spoiled lil thing 🧁 ˎˊ˗♡

✧ dislikes:

𖤓 being perceived wrong

𖤓 waking up too real

𖤓 no aftercare

𖤓 lovers who look at me like i’m human

𖤓 loud lights + loud voices

𖤓 cold hands

𖤓 empty touch

𖤓 being forgotten mid-sentence

𖤓 empty dominance with no devotion

𖤓 being asked to explain the way i love

𖤓 when i cry and they think it’s manipulation

𖤓 mirrors.

🩰💗༉‧₊˚ ✧ 𝒫𝓊𝓅𝒾 ✧˚₊‧༉💗🩰

...

🫧🩷 i’m the kind of girlboy you want to fix, but by the time you get close, i’ve already made you worse.

i write because it’s the only way i know i’m still here.

a pretty little blur in a body that doesn’t believe in itself. someone that begs pretty. that turns trauma into lipstick.

that loves too hard & doesn’t know how to stop.🩷🫧

...

🍓🩵🧷this page is for lost unicorns, desperate lovers, and good girls with sharp teeth. welcome to my dollhouse of divine delusion. 🍓🩵🧷

......!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓅𝑒𝑒𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓁 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 ☆ﾟ･:*:･｡,★ﾟ･:*:･｡

[poetpup]

goodmorning!! (๑╹ω╹๑ )

🧸 Your Living Doll, Just for You 🩰

i want him to pick out my clothes.

no, i need him to.

stand me in front of the closet like a little doll on display, sleepy-eyed and soft, waiting for his fingers to brush hangers aside and say, “this one.”

i’ll twirl for him.

do a little spin in lace and bows, bite my lip all shy when the hem flutters up just a little too high.

model each outfit just for his gaze—pink tulle, tight little skirts, collars with jingling charms, socks with satin bows.

he’ll sit back and hum in approval.

call me his pretty girl.

his good little puppy.

his perfect princess doll, all dressed up just to be undressed.

[poetpup]

puppydoll ! princess ! keep mi 4ever 🍭🐰🐶

[poetpup]

i wish to be more than life.

not a body, not a heartbeat, not a name someone says when they need something.

i want to be the kind of beauty you don’t touch

only witness.

you know when you’re driving

and the world outside the window feels like it belongs to something older,

something quieter?

the trees aren’t trying.

the mountains don’t beg to be loved.

the sky stretches like it has always known freedom.

i want to be that.

i want to be

a breath that halts you mid-sentence.

a color you can’t describe.

a silence that doesn’t feel empty.

you know when the sun starts to fall

and your hands go for your phone

because your eyes alone can’t carry it all?

i want to be that kind of ache.

that kind of pause.

a moment that asks for nothing

and still, you keep looking.

i want to be seen

without being known.

felt

without being held.

a living stillness.

a presence without weight.

not human.

not exactly alive.

but here.

and beautiful.

the way the world is

when no one is speaking.

[poetpup]

just a sick girl